Ocean Point
These rocks
in the late-day sun,
mica-marbled,
ancient and smooth,
That rich seaweed smell
after yesterday’s storm,
Those children
poking at treasures
in the tide pool,
That lone sailboat
heading home,
This moment,
when the tide turns
and the wind
goes chill;
I should be
on my way,
but still,
I stay.
About the author
Melissa Ann Goodwin is a poet, writer, yoga teacher, and lover of books, nature, and cats. She has written two novels for children, The…
Read the full bioIssue 21 · October 2014
Table of contents
- From the editors
- Poetry
- Romance
- Aubade in Transit
- Igbo Directions in Amsterdam
- Santé
- on a wrought iron bench in Bristol
- Two poems by Jane Kirwan
- Amaszonas, S.A.
- African Soundscape
- Byzantium at the Bus Stop; Byzantium at the Mall
- The Fields of May
- Two poems by Bill Yake
- Two poems by Mike Puican
- High Jumping Silver
- Ocean Point
- the ground unfurls
- Three poems by Athena Kildegaard
- Postcard Prose
- Travel Notes