I was in Southern California in 1983 and '84, studying in the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing Program at the University of California, Irvine, and living in Dana Point, about halfway between Los Angeles and San Diego. Capistrano Beach is one of the local beaches. Here's a poem from February 1984, right out of a notebook.
The Holy Ghost at Capo Beach
The Father dressed in black jersey and black pants rolled to the knees
Walks up the sand out of morning haze beginning to burn off,
And two persons he had embraced near the waves stand talking
In fog that looks like what ghosts and souls are said to look like.