About “Beach Glass”

Beach Glass is prose-poetry that came to me as indicated, on a trip to the beach with Fran. The actual beach was Robinson Beach on the west side of Whidbey Island, instead of Holmes Harbor facing the northeast.  This distinction isn’t important and I’m not sure why I decided to change the location in the text.

While not an entirely precise replication of the experience, it is conceptually accurate. I did pickup a small piece of worn glass and held it in my hand as I considered it as a metaphor for the women who was waiting in the car.
As I stared out over Admiralty Inlet and the Olympic mountains, my mind, in some subconscious state, began to relive the past half hour, in repetitious, staccatic, semi-sensical dialog.  I gradually intuited the underlying poetry in our conversation.

Slowly, I realized that I could not have had the same fragile bonding with another, more lucid person.  The joy of this pleasant patter was unique to Fran and I.
Across the chasm, both temporal and psychic, separating Fran and I stretches this language, a grammatical bridge that is both illuminating and comforting. It articulates our relationship both as care-giver/cared-for as well as friend/friend.  We share a delightfully benign respect, free of pettiness and anger.  I try not to overthink it, I’m sure she doesn’t. Life is too short.

This fragile link won’t always sustain our communication.  Over time, the line will grow dim and then, finally, silent. Thus, I am fortunate to indulge in it as I can today.
“Beach Glass” manifests this realization to me, slowly and imperfectly.