Good day! I couldn’t resist my post title and the early birders who were part of the great email round-about will understand. Also, that I used grittle, griddle, and brittle. Couldn’t get gristle to work; considered bristle. The poem was in rough draft when the emails started so the redraft focused more on getting the above words in, than making the poem work!
The wind, like grittle skimmed across the ocean surface,
triggers movement, swells the waves, relishes the water’s climb –
until gravity exerts its claim, a chain, pulling earthward –
Salt spray flicks the sand, like batter landing on a hot griddle,
the same refrain, the crack and sizzle of small explosions.
I follow the receding water’s edge. I plant my feet, watch toes
lapped by foam, enveloped, swallowed by the sand, feel the sting
of brittle grains, thrown up by wind and water, a reminder
of humility due, when becoming part of air and sea and shore.
Brenda, thank you always, especially for this list and the conversation. Visit The Sunday Whirl and see if/how others managed to use some of the words I mention above.
Happy reading and writing.