Point Reyes Remains
Imagine limousines slicing through Pacific winds.
What if putting greens sprawled on coastal scrub?
This never occurred. No cul de sacs now,
Thirty pelicans rise, dip, bounce over waves,
Turn and wheel above sandstone cliffs.
No Mercedes-Benz, just brown and gray quail
Shaking tassels, herding young into coyote bush,
Away from hungry fox. Praise us!
Some dreamt asphalt here. Split levels,
Chandeliers, saunas, dry bars,
Picture windows facing the sea. They lost.
No wine bars or chateaubriand
With weekend jazz. Just osprey
Flashing white from their wings, sticks in beaks
For nests in Douglas firs. Praise our foresight!
No hair salons, just great egrets, tall white birds
Strolling through marshes, beaks poised for frogs.
No cars – just sparrows singing in pines.
No cigar shops, only wildflowers and elk.
Houses don’t thrive here. Whales rise,
Spray the sea, flash tails and flukes to the fog,
Dive to the clam place for a feast.
Deeper than sea stars and the moon.
Praise our wisdom when we can.
Pt. Reyes National Seashore 5/14