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By Peter Venable Wrightsville. Wind blustery at thirty knots. On the horizon leviathan thunderheads advance, promise a deluge too soon for comfort. Wind surfers zigzag between Crystal Pier and Wier Rock Jetty, their crescent sails like painted sickles of aqua, crimson, and lime, cleave through whitecaps and skirt each other. One pelican guides inches above waves, black-tipped wings steering his purpose. From the pier two pigeons scud across, land, court, bob and rub their bills, brazenly mate by blankets of curvaceous co-ends. A tattooed guy points, thumbs up. A couple cuddles like spoons oblivious to winds, sails, pigeons-- she coos, he groans as a few feathers blow over dunes and God knows where. Thunder. Windsurfers tack to shore-- bathers stream to the street-- a beach umbrella somersaults-- pigeons fly to roosts under the pier. Rain pours graphite sheets, smudging seagulls, sandpipers, and one wet-suited surfer riding a crest seconds before lightning strikes. The writer has written sacred and secular verse for many decades. He’s appeared in Ancient Paths, Prairie Messenger, The Lyric, The Anglican Theological Review, The Christian Century, The Merton Seasonal and Windhover. His Jesus Through A Poet’s Lens is available at Amazon. He is at petervenable.com and on Facebook.
Peter's other work on Foreshadow: A Saturday's Quartet (Poetry, June 2023) Truth Is Subjectivity (Poetry, April 2024)
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