.
A day when I pack a sandwich, sit on the beach—a day in which I hypostatize God in a flash of lightning, too far off for sound; in a woman staring as though she’s looking through me; in this wave ruffling at my feet; thro’ the words of Truman Capote: The wind is us—it gathers and remembers all our voices . . . .
into the rip
my pin tail surfboard
sings me to my idols
sings the wind
from Waimea to Piha Beach
by Dru Philippou
Taos, New Mexico
Taos, New Mexico
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