Place (A) For Me Poem by Tom Courtney

Winds buffeting sea rocks
covered with a sea of white birds
like a powder, waves
lunging against the land
straining away the earth into silt
narrow trails twisting around stout brush
dropping precipitously into the hollows
winding down from the land’s cover
to where the waters have bitten off the face
cries from above the haunting gulls
tiny scattering, clustering, scuttling sea crabs
and the world of tide pools below
the sun withdraws the blanket of night
from across the far horizon toward the shoreline
bringing with it colors to the colorless
the cliffs stand high above an unnamed stretch
of beach where the playgrounds
are less hospitable to man
less convenient and unmarked
by our penchant to organize and build
And knowing this I come to this place
take the extra effort to be alone
take the extra thought to be together
with myself
I come here in the morning
when the air is still and within minutes
everything within me has changed