Never Seen

January 1, 2026

By Morrow Dowdle

snowy and foggy mountain scene

Photo by Daniel Mirlea on Unsplash

I’ve never seen frost on sand.
I’ve never seen waves withdraw
so far out at low tide, leaving the beach
more absence than presence.

I’ve never seen mountains
stumble down into the sea,
the pines on its profile both
mass and distinct.

I’ve never seen this kind of mist,
a great cloud off the water, a veil
over the base of the cliff, so that
the eye flickers between

what is seen and unseen.
How could this not be the place
where I confront my loneliness,
improbable longings, resistance

to love what loves me most.
Still wanting what does not
want me. I’ve never felt
morning wind so sharp and quick.

Friends Journal Cover - Indigenous Peoples and Friends

January 2026

Indigenous Peoples and Friends

Morrow Dowdle

Morrow Dowdle is the author of the poetry chapbook Hardly (Bottlecap Press, 2024). They run a performance series that features historically marginalized voices. A former physician assistant, they are now pursuing their creative writing MFA. They live in Durham, N.C., and are a member of Eno Meeting of Hillsborough.

Previous Article Next Article

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Maximum of 400 words or 2000 characters.

We want to hear from you, not an AI! Please be thoughtful and use your own words. Comments on Friendsjournal.org may be used in the Forum of the print magazine and may be edited for length and clarity.