A Bottle Cap on the Straight

This afternoon from my bedroom window,
I gazed out upon the now still
Blue water of Penn Cove.

The view constantly changes; often in minutes,
Turning from black mirror to silver whitecaps
Obeying the strict cruel wind of the Straight,,,

The Straight of Juan De Fuca. I greet each morning
With thrown back covers, anticipating and predicting
My day by this house and myself still standing,

In defiance of time and weather. .. and time.

One third of my life has involved this view,
Though my beloved window is becoming a mirror.
It reflects all my life so far on the cove, in realities

Both harsh and as calm as the unpredictable water,
Sometimes reflecting and laying bare, my memories,
Like the bottle cap forgotten by the pavers,

Melting now for fifty years into the asphalt,
And granted fifty more by the county
Declaring the street private and no longer theirs.

The Straight of Juan De Fuca, I greet each morning
In defiance of time and weather. .. and time.
I am a bottle cap…

And becoming a part of the road.