The Sand Hill Review http://www.sandhillreview.org 2004

Asilomar a.m.

The ravens dive and play

in the tall pines near the shore

cackling and calling in the fog

as it moves through the trees at

sunrise.

The air is fresh from the sea

and from dry pine needles

on sandy soil.

A few deer prints appear

then disappear.

Your spirit is here

swirled in fog, bird cries

and distant waves crashing.

We walk together

in silent company

in and out of the mist.

Jean Chacona