We’d thought we missed
the sweet of the year
visiting the northern Sonoma coast
as we do less and less
for when we do return it is with nearly
primordial grief so inescapable there
where wind displaces fog
and though the bushes grow thick
alongside familiar bluff trails the berries
today are dry and dull with cobwebs
so our mourning group has walked away
from the sea urchin barrens and away
from the sites where our hammers
once pounded abalone on wood benches
and strangers had exchanged music
for meals at our campfires
and our children had run in the dark
before sleeping in our tents
we’ve walked away and up to the pygmy forest
of cypress that grow out of hardpan
and here we’re surprised by huckleberries
which hang plump and abundant
enough to purple our fingers as we drop them into bags
and talk about tomorrow morning when we will
eat our pancakes with huckleberry syrup
while we hear the ocean waves
for they will always be breaking.
In memory of Mark Simpson and California’s North Coast abalone fishery
—
Annie Cody Holdren lives in the Monterey Bay area of California. Her professional career has centered on interpreting and writing about archaeology and natural history. She has had poems published in Catamaran, Nostos, Frogpond, Canary, Kerning, and others.
