RogueAgent

Trish Hopkinson

ON THE RIM OF DEPOE BAY

my breath blends
              with fog: joins me to its       hovering
              below a muted sun
              above the tide
              my       breath, not so unlike
              any      breath
my       breath: the inhale, the scent
   of ocean       breath
combined with basalt breath
   any               breath, collective breath
                                     conjoins in cliff & glistening spray
                        ears tuned to spouting horns
              the ancient stench of whale breath
the long           draw of a fog
            horn, its hollow         
                        breath swells wide to the horizon
            rapid breath, breath of gulls, the held        breath
            of seabirds diving
my own held                                                  breath
                                   coupled with ocean
                          foam, coupled breath
fog’s breath to my breath, the whales’
               breath, the gulls’
               breath          blends
surges & tumbles—ruptures
               on the shore / line, gray
                        breath glides the surface
   of ancient   breath
                       breath washes up
                       breath eclipses the sun opaque
                       breath collects / connects
       to cliff     breath
         to my    breath
            breath                    held
on the rim      

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