Giants by the Sea

Giants by the sea
     sitting reverently

Two gazes called
     ‘cross ocean deep

To distant rock giants 
     carving razor edge

Capped by cotton collar
     oncoming night’s bed

Currents carry love afar
     creatures whisper notes

Messages largely unheard
     by walking shore bound folks

Time stops a moment
     breeze speaks sun’s secrets

Giants sniff salty air
     no words necessary

~ Em C.



I couldn’t resist taking some photos from my viewpoint of a man and his Great Dane enjoying the sunset together.

The way the dog was happily observing people, the birds and who knows, maybe even the ocean and sunset, too…was entirely sweet to observe. And the love of his human…if only we could all love one another so purely.

A giant creature, and his giant human. A beautiful moment.


Solid Home

darkness cloaking
rocking sea —

just time, the salt,
and bobbing me

no horizon
but moonlit crests

no sense of where,
or whether at rest

blindly floating
on night’s wet wings,

cradled on surface,
iron whale swims

faint outline separates
black hill, silk sky

prayer hands reach out,
an atheist’s cry

a star above distant land
shimmering death

mine eyes anchor 
to its flickering message

I follow the light
until stormy sea settles

trace it as I weather
my tossing vessel

no horizon
but one shining dot

calling a sinking soul back
to solid home 



Free Me ~ Haiku


Choking hazy smoke

Another red sun looming

Free me on sailed sea


~ Emily C.




Day 6:  Smoke is still here. I can smell it in the house when I opened the bedroom door this morning to the hall where it’s an obvious contrast. But, then sitting in the house, one acclimates to it.

I have been running HEPA air purifiers with brand new filters round the clock, and have only opened the doors briefly in morning or night to let the cool air in for a bit. And even THAT has been enough to make it smell smokey in here. Check out my filter picture, the one on the left was new on Thursday. The one on the right is unused. Look at all that dirt caught in only 3 days. Crazy! Glad its in there and not my lungs, but I do feel it a bit anyway.

The first two pics are from Sigma Shreedharan again. Yucky air makes for great art!

The third pic is mine off my back deck at sunset. We are still dealing with heat, but it’s only in the high 80s instead of high 90s now. After the 4 feet of rain we had this winter, I didn’t think I’d be desperate for a raincloud, but here we are. 🙂

Side note: my Mac’s trackpad has been causing issues and making my cursor go berserk in a scary way. So, I haven’t been able to use it and all my poetry bookmarks are on that one. I will be delayed even more in catching up on your awesome words. But, in time will be trying my best to catch up.

Also back to my vestibular therapist tomorrow. Still working my way through that, but definitely not as acute as I was. The new exercises have been a challenge for my brain on top of the environmental triggers lately with the heat and smoke. Looking forward to clean air and improved health.

Miss you all and thank you for your steadfast support.


Tell Me A Tale

Tell me a tale of the sea, good sir
my body is sore from the journey here
you see, I left my home far away, free
and set out upon my way by sea

Never looked back, did I
just carried my things in this pack, did I
a notebook, a pen, a blanket, a tin
some gruel, a hat, and a pole with to fish

I fear the map was lost in the ocean
my captain swore in all the commotion
he knew the way, but the way he lost
and into the storms we were tossed

Three weeks or maybe ’twas more
one cannot ever truly be sure
as we lost track of the dizzying stars
and the moon was black in the dark

Wind howled as if calling its pack
often I’d resign to howling back
when clocks would stop working
one’s mind would stop working

So ‘till morning came on fateful voyage
many a whale ventured into our visage
rained on our deck with their mighty blow
pounded their blubber upon our bow

Prayers we did utter in humble plea
to save us from our catastrophe
and each narrow escape did we sigh
a heavy heave of missing death’s cry

What mercy bestowed upon me to be
able to share what brings me to thee
for to sit in hard battle-charred chair
relate you my story with greatest care

I’d surely not have breath to speak
you’d surely not be pouring me beer
and I’d surely not be able to ask
for your sea-story to calm this
near-ghost of a lass


~ Emily C.




He stood at the edge, nothing but vast icebergs 

expanding into an endless flat horizon

an arctic desert in the cold tundra plains, 

suspended above the waterworld inhabited 

by creatures that live lightless

translucent tenants of the deep sea

frilled sharks, lantern fish, vampire squid

thousands of feet down below his

he skates across, lost and found

found and lost, where sky becomes ice

and ice becomes sky, this or that end up

an explorer of the soul — he calls for her

echoing her name across glacial canyons

that avalanche thundering truths down

into the frigid depths of his atrophied heart

scarred by the pain of her loss …oh god, her loss

her forever ago, her never here anymore

he wanders lightless like below

and down below, he goes

~ Emily C.




Six men set out on Seattle’s salty sea air
F/V Destination sailing to Alaskan waters fierce
where in the Bering Sea, their job of crab fishing
the most deadly waters, most deadly career

Another adventure they sought, they knew the risks
they left their loved ones back at home with an extra kiss
families that always counted each moment a fleeting gift
never guaranteed to see their men back in their arms again 

Eight foot seas, snowing, below freezing ocean, frigid cold
no mayday call, no chance to escape, no hope of rescue
debris, remnants, and a beacon floating far from home
their ship swallowed by unforgiving nature, now high seas tomb

Their bodies, claimed, their souls committed in deep blue below
forever now a part of the world they loved, the calling they sought
another story of the sea callously consuming the brave
the human condition, strong…but ultimately no match,

frail in the face of a wicked storm’s rage.

~ Em C.



Dedicated to the 6 lives lost on the F/V Destination this week, a Seattle-based fishing vessel whose home port is the Fisherman’s Terminal, a place I visit frequently for fish and chips, and to walk the docks reading boat names and marveling at the shipping vessels. They bring back the best seafood from this area, and from Alaska and often times they pay the ultimate price. There is a large wall at the terminal where names are inscribed on plaques of those who have paid the price for their passion for the sea.

May they rest in peace and may the families find comfort in their memories.


lanterns lit the sand washed wood
of the dock by the shifting shore

at twilight the fireflies lit messages
speckled spacetime in twinkling lore

from where I was I saw you
walking with your demons arm in arm

to the conversation I was not privy
seems the waves the audience more

as they kissed your dragging feet
the demons and the waves, both

I sipped my sun tea sweet
pondered to stay or to go

while moon rose o’er tempered sea
I let time determine our destiny

your hair blended into the horizon
and I could not ascertain

whether this longing heart was broken

or rather longing for the sea instead

~ EC