<html><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><div dir="auto" style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Shoreline</span><div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Point Arena, 1970’s</i></span></div><div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">From the wild coast across the highway</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">seals barked us awake at dawn.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">We collected driftwood for fire.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I made bread. The artichokes you</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">planted grew large, their hearts nestled</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">in spiky purples and turtle belly greens.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">A returning sparrow hawk perched</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">on our swing set eyeing the scratchy lawn.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I remember us younger and strong</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">not exactly carefree, our children</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">beautiful and full of joy</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and the need of us.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Sunshine played hide and seek</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">with the wind amid tall redwoods</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">whose shallow roots stretched</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">centuries in fog saturated earth.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Deer grazed on the high bluffs</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and orange poppies dazzled through</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">a maze of spring iris.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Once, as though in a dream–</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">a doe slipped from the cliff</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">and rode helpless on the waves.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Starfish clung to craggy rocks</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">bonded in a surge of water on stone–</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">stone abrading into sand.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">And now weathered in age I feel</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">the lull of on shore breezes</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">that stir windy memories–</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">fiery sunsets and plummeting</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">cormorants when the sights and sounds</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">of sea, our pacific shoreline, meant home.</span></div><div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Karen Kellam</span></div></div></body></html>