first salt

the first sight of salt water
an inlet
is almost justification enough
for the tedious uprooting
and interminable travel
on this journey from the inland
to a city
via the sea

six hours through mountains
snow and sleet behind
incessant soaking drizzle
and squalls that howl like banshee ghosts
with their accompanying gusts
a constant buffet and a beating

but here at Robe
by the seaside
with much of the journey done
the wind is
of the sea
and the rippling waves
shivering the inlet
are patterns
immediately familiar
and the bringers
of a sense of peace
not known back in the hills of home

the first sight of salt water
changes the nature of the wind
until it blows
not Winter fury
but stories
from distant shores
to be inhaled
absorbed

tomorrow will be
a new city


© Frank Prem, 2015

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