Wonder If

wonder if
raccoons wander the beach after dusk and leave pawprints in the ebb tide

wonder if
it’s sacred to step through the curled & looping mystic symbols left by children in the sand

wonder if
all the sea castles washed off the beach are folded into vast ocean republics

wonder if
poseidon is throwing us an apocalypse party with rainbow plastic bits as handmade confetti

wonder if
some walruses wonder if we weirdoes forgot to put our tusks on this morning

wonder if
the meandering snakes of curling bicycle tread patterns ever wish they had shadows for company

wonder if
mama seagulls ever wash out the beaks of their sons to stop them from cursing so much

wonder if
the trees put on patent leather shoes before the fandango wind takes them dancing

wonder if
lonely mountains mail soggy postcards on stream trains to cousins with pacific addresses

wonder if
driftwood feels the same way about poets or if it ever feels like it lacks direction

wonder if
sand is piled deeper than the ocean or if it is older than my jaded great grandfather

wonder if
mermaid handshakes are a valid form of currency in the deep

wonder if
transient ghosts say thanks to the architects of driftwood palaces

wonder if
blackbirds prune their wings and fancy themselves supermodels striking poses for photographers

wonder if
the sand squeaks a protest underfoot for daring to tread here with your shoes on

wonder if
kites love the wind and tug for freedom from their cruel imprisoned fate as strung-up marionettes

wonder if
the colorful colorless water is being ironic

wonder if
the shore secretly rereads all the hearts and love letters left there every Valentine’s

wonder if
the dogs are all laughing at jokes the stand-up fish are telling in perfumes our noses never got

wonder if
west coast wolves were less solemn than their Rocky Mountain sisters

wonder if
weekend warrior elk drink budweiser or hot cocoa round their campfires further upshore and I

wonder if
the smoky redwood burning floats on greyhound clouds back home to California

wonder if
the beach had hands, would it let me hold one?

wonder if
underwater cable stations broadcast outrageous sitcoms all starring jewish seals

wonder if
beaded gypsy otters read fortunes and maps to the future in all the talon marks and footprints

wonder if
the tiny birds on the beach hold annual speedwalk races and celebrate champions

wonder if
all flocks and feathers take fright and flight together

wonder if
the trees in the dell gossip for centuries bout how they all showed up wearing the same green moss

wonder if
pitterpatter rain knows the ticklish spots of beachsand and of windows in cedar-shingled shacks

wonder if
teenage squirrels squeal with delight at the trilling songs of lark and robin

wonder if
the polar bears might swim butterfly strokes south and play yahtzee with their kodiak brothers

wonder if
old men ever find their youth capped in airtight glass bottles washed up in the ebb tide

-for julianne