Two Coastal Episodes


Morning sea-mist thick on the cove.
Slowly the sun glows softly brighter, 
minutes pass.  The milky white 
thins, the outline of the coast 
imperceptibly emerges, 
veiled awakening.  

Ridge pines silhouette,
vapor pales into its own vanishing.
Iridescence gleams
on the wave-curls; southward
a gull glides above stone
out of slick sand.
Low-tide revelations,
the tightened mouths of sea-anemones. 

Down the coast
mist pillows into the hollows.
Beyond the surf, the sea is calm, 
smoothly blue, the winds
still keeping to themselves.


Glory morning,
the first free of impenetrable grey
in many days.
Tiny hallelujahs sparkle on the sea,
southward the palisades glow.

Still aloft
the pale transparent bell
of the daymoon.

Into the almost forgetful waves,
someone’s throwing a stick
for a dog to fetch.

The wind fierce by noon.
Far away, unseen seals bark,
a sonic ruckus.

John Allen Cann
Noyo Review Pieces

Born in Santa Monica, Will Rogers State Beach an easy bike ride away, John Allen Cann now lives in Anchor Bay—a beautiful beach just down the canyon of Enchanted Meadows. His loves include baseball, chamber music, his wife, artist Robyn, & his son, Dylan.  He has a special fondness for redwoods, spindrift, & the huge, billowing white coastal clouds.  His poetry has been influenced by Emerson, Whitman, Ammons, Merwin, & Rilke.  This past October ‘23, he collaborated with painter, Mike Connor, in an exhibition at the Arts Center in Gualala, Thresholds—which featured the interplay of pen & brush as their collaborative work explored the permeable boundary between the seen & the unseen.  His most recent book is The Moon Over Madrid.