Sunset at the Beach

The sea rolls onto the shore,

roars its whitewashed waves upward,

descending downward, onward to the tips of my toes

 

I’m sitting at the edge, in the sand

staring ahead

 

There should be a sense of calm

A serenity in the washing sound of the water,

Maybe comfort in the earth malleable with my fingers,

But I am cloudless, anxious and drowning

in the sunset,

 

The umbrellas are folding,

The blankets are blowing by, rushing in the wind

away from the hands that laid them so squarely down

edge, by perfect edge,

laying down to leave their human imprint for suntanned hours.

The sand castles are burning from teenage kicks,

bad architecture planning,

and flooding conditions

The sandwiches are collecting flies in the trash

with the Coppertone sweetheart,  

her bathing suit pulled off at the waist by a puppy

There are lovers, in the life guard stations,

cuddling together against the wind,

wanting to be naked and free enough

to challenge the tall waves, wanting to be resilient enough

to make love in the cold

wet sandy shore

 

And I am distant and near to it all

Unable to walk through the parking lot to the parking attendant

who demands $10 for a few hours of restless entertainment,

or to the parking meter, where no one donated a quarter

and the maid has given me my bill…

or to the bus where the fare takes me a block from home…

When all I want to be is somewhere else.

 

Reviews

[Dorothea Barth]

A vivid and convincing examination of perspective...

[Jibey]

Lovely writing, in which you capture the lonely longing of one who observes the detail and possibilities of the scene and feels distanced by circumstance... It expresses feeling we all have...

[Ed Hart]

here is else