An ode to the lasting presence of John Steinbeck in Monterey

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Go to the tidal pools.

Go when the weather’s foul.

Go alone to see life

left after the deluge.

Look in the shallow pools.

Look to the sea’s power.

Look for eternity

in delicate bounty.

Pass the clapboard houses.

Pass dew laden cypress.

Pass fishing ghosts waiting,

mending their dormant nets.

Hear the night bay rhythm.

Hear the water’s old voice.

Hear an easy rejoice,

coaxed by afternoon light.

Smell the fresh salted air.

Smell the slow burning oaks.

Smell the sweet fog finding

its self-charted courses.

You can feel the passed dream.

You can taste the lament.

You can still catch glimpses

of Steinbeck’s Monterey.

By Jonathan Dyer

From: United States

Website: https://jonathandyerauthor.com/

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