A stretch of coast in California
Do you love the dawn like me?
Are you drawn to tidal pools
and the the ocean's life or the shore's
long grasses bowing to the East?
When the sun is warm as red lips,
and yachts like sea-maids float and play,
the ragtops come down bearing bronzed bodies
and sun ripened, bright, dry hair.
In pockets along the wrinkled coast
where in thistledown the spider grows
and homes, castle-like arise each day from mist
They sell God's grandeur.