Approaching Limits at Carolina Beach

I wanted to look at the steely face of the Atlantic.The air felt like sand in the sun’s staticlight. The wind kept gustingthe hand I use to drive my chairoff to the sidelike a kite.

I had to be helped up the ramp, wherepelicans swooped past headsand landed on whitecap waves with ease.

I could say I was mesmerized.I could say I was jealous.

The shore seemed to stretch into the futurewhere the horizon appearedlike a granite countertop, and I thought:maybe a flat world would be better.

There is security in knowing where the edge of the world waits,

where perched on a rail, a raven sitsslanted, feathers ruffled.