My mom, Raynette Forister Eitel, passed away in September of 2022, age 85, drifting away into dementia. It was tragic to watch this woman who loved words, who was a poet, fade away into wordlessness after a lifetime of crafting poetry. To honor her, I’m sharing some of her poems. To read more of her poems, keep coming back here.
She grew up in the desert Southwest, but she fell in love with the sea once she was able to travel more, briefly living next to the ocean with our stepdad, Jim, and returning to the seashore every chance she got. We will be traveling to the coast to celebrate her life later this summer.
By the Heceta Lighthouse
(on the coast of Oregon)
by Raynette Eitel
The rambling Pacific rumbles in here
With harsh messages from afar.
The old Heceta Lighthouse watches,
A sentinel high above the beach
Shining its eye across blue waters.
Roars of sea lions and gongs of whales
Bounce over the sand on waves
Exploding across tall monoliths,
Leaving only liquid lace
And stacks of pale bleached driftwood.
Wisps of pink morning mist
Cling to cliffs like a painted fantasy.
The foghorn moans, gulls weep,
Even as a deep percussive sound of sea
Pounds its centuries-old rhythm.
The Pacific continues to roll in
While poets post mist-filled poems
In the salty sand. As the tide goes out
Words lie beside purple sea fans
And juicy clams with pearly shells
Waiting patiently to be discovered.
Writing Rhetorically 