Up the Coast (Day 537)

for the most part

we hugged 

the scalloped shoreline

tenderly   slowly

winding our way 

up the coast 

at low tide

the lurid scent of 

seaweed was tempered 

by a withering 

sand-sharpened wind  

and sounds and sights 

were muffled 

and obscured

by richly draped fog 

and the folded incline

of golden hills 

so that sometimes it was 

hard to tell 

the bark 
of a disgruntled sea lion 

from that 

of an excitable dog 

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Abhinaba Basu (CC-BY-2.0)