My Father's Poems: July 17, 2022

Daily Diary, Day 685:

BIG SUR

Go fresh and north
along Big Sur
through morning sun
that throws your shadow
down a thousand feet
where splintered rock
awaits the wheeling bird,
where almost silent breakers
drown the shore.

Climb higher, with the sun,
as switch backed road
snakes to the topmost edge,
turns on itself
scuttled down and in
to clear a giant cut
on slender bridge.

Then back again
higher and closer to
the breathless
drop.
Down
and out
and down
in one last dive
and out at last
to fallen crumbled rock.

The mountain and the day subside
in colors born of distant mist and autumn air.
The sun still waits
in silent time, to
plunge.

—Joseph Locke