The Stoker

Here’s to our stoker

our rosy eyed friend,

who dreams of glassy curls

and sessions without end.


Here’s to our stoker

the first on the sand,

waking hours before the sun

makin plans to be grand.


Here’s to our stoker

scouring weather models and maps,

no time for the grind

rally the crew with back slaps.


Here’s to our stoker,

hypnotized like a trance

communes with dolphins

and turns knee-high to jubilance.


Here’s to our stoker,

may he never relent

to the doldrums of reality,

lest the lot of us lament.



Yonder Wave

Yonder wave will bend and break,

Til winter dies and summer wakes,

The tourist hoard left with the sun

their pillagin’ day is done,

We seize the moment to sit in haze,

Aching shoulders, the feeling fades.


Yonder wave will bend and break

Til North Pacific turns to lake,

We drive the coast in sweet relief

As longer days retreat to brief,

Rejoice anew in each day’s sight

and lenses basque in morning light.