Tourist in the City When you step off of the train in San Francisco, you are faced with daunting choices and decisions: do you rush to...

lawrencetown beach (mostly frozen summer surf) even with the suit legs freezing in summer waters while rocks wound and edge feet cut to...

Shellfish Me, tattooed on your skin. You weren’t after new ink, you’ve already turned your ex’s initial into a bird in flight, feathers...

Family Portraits by the Sea Clad in linen, my gleeful mother scoots across wet sand and broken shells to feel the froth of water on...

ON PIER AVENUE Of the plunging surf breaking off the Pier Avenue shoreline, in this part of the beach, there is a severe undertow...

Fishes Swam in Straight Lines In the beginning, the sky was tall and blue and quiet and no birds dared cross it. My hands lay quietly in...

ii. i can't even remember if in the dream we had made it out alive the language of the land we were in or whether there were others--...

Geophysical Circulation From the heart of The Northern Gyroscope Pumps out the blue blood of The Pacific With its spirit of peace,...

The Inundation of Dreams The old man insists, the ocean will come back while his grandchildren are dreaming. While his sons prepare dawn...

By Mykyta Ryzhykh Untitled We soared vapors of moisture up to the cloud Will we be able to return to earth? The white cat of my younger...

Leviathan The whales came in, the whales went out, into the harbour and beyond. Wrecking the boardwalk with their thudding passage, they...

A boy's plea to water This seascape— tinted with the yellow breath of the dying sun— spreads into a wiggling waistline of the sea...

By Camille McCawley Camille McCawley is a UK based poet. Her debut pamphlet “An Odd Gift” was published by Bearded Badger Publishing in...

Neptune A vineyard up the hill from Castelnuovo Berardenga in the Siena Province of Tuscany was once on the seafloor. The hand-sized...

by Shailey Bellamkonda An evening by the beach, I heard a Voice A sight by the Sun A song by the moon Free and wild I have no prison I am...

My Psalm The eardrums burst into the rumble of buzz and busy Paragon of pandemonium perpetrates air carnage, When the chaotic music stops...

Home Help Jar upon jar of shells fill the shelves where books, photographs, normality should be. Swathes of brittle seaweed hang in place...

By Carmel-by-the-Sea Surfers paddle out in the April chill, but never catch the surf. Are they children -- remote, heedless and alone?...

At the Mansplainers Anonymous Meeting By Jamie Brisick At the Mansplainers Anonymous meeting we were given a maximum of twenty-five...

Anne Bonny Makes It Out when you made it to the beach was your child on your back or left on another shore? and which would be harder to...