The Idea of Order at Cape Hatteras

On Cape Hatteras beach, liberty caps
burst my vision, burst my gut --
roared in my ear to wind tunnel peak.

I swam oceanic karma,
sniffed sea spray to my sinuses,
spied rapid sandpipers combing
in the wake
of breaking waves.

Water clatter, sheet metal tear,
lacerated my parietal lobe

as I tracked
cumulonimbus buffalo galloping
over vast surf undulating
green and blue then

cumulus faces, bubbling white,
mimed both agony and delight.
When I closed my eyes,

I watched endless black red tendrils
of eternal action climb. I grabbed sand on sand
to sink adrenaline and lay on the beach
minding a billion microscopic shells.

The translucent ocean body,
in wordless rage, boiled
among the air

left me so new-born weak,
my neurons realigned,
I gasped for the real breath
like the first land dwelling fish.