To take a back seat, far from care
Allows the soul to breathe pure air;
A stroll invites along the dyke:
Sea Island sees large planes take flight!*
Geese huddle in a long white line
Breezes dip and whip up brine
A fluffy cloud the skyline dulls…
The silence broken by the gulls.
Jutting out to choppy waves
A promenade arrests my gaze
Where ant-like people walk the line;
Beneath their feet – a city’s grime…
As here vast sewers reach the sea
Where offshore winds chase out debris...
Iona Beach is quiet, discrete
Rough gravel paths for sandalled feet.
(c) Poet in the woods 2026
* Site of Vancouver airport
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