Just Past the Guardrail

A flash of gray, then gone.

The car kept moving, past the sign

for beach access, past the dunes that hid

what I knew was there.

Just a glimpse of white foam,

a restless line, where the water broke.

And the sound, not heard, but felt,

a deep rumble, even through the closed glass.

I didn't stop. Never do, really.

Just watch it from the edges, from the road.

Too vast to get close, too cold, too much.

Better to keep driving, see just the hint of it,

and let it pass.