Something about the West Coast.
The idea of the edge of things.
Coming to. Going away.
Waves, but not so obvious.
Something about the West coast,
about going towards the end of things
through open space where
anything can happen
nearly always not there
nearly always has been,
Namibia, California, Connemara.
A West Coast cantilever
that leaves you reaching out
and all you can think
of is of
what might have been or might be,
imagining it here,
on the western edge of where we are.
More of Damian Ruth's poetry here