Sand spit at Wolfe Point

the sand spit is a narrow tongue
a deposit of pebble and sand 
poking its curving lisp
through the bay’s rising waters

it is a narrow footpath
threading the needle’s eye of waves
which lap and lick at either edge

it is an unsubtle highway
vanishing into the sudden mist
that drops like a peregrine falcon
from surrounding cliffs

what wild things hide here
hidden in the gravel and sheltered
from the elements by stone?

seasonal birds
of no fixed abode:
can you keep the secret
of the sea-side shelter
where they roost and rest?

Hush, now,
do not disturb them
lest they fly

migratory harbingers 
of our fragile destinies
they will anyway soon be gone

high neap tides and winter winds
will sand the sand spit
down to its wooden bones

and everything will vanish
until nothing but the ephemeral remains