Forever Sea (Cleaning Beaches)

High tides

eat the beaches

and wash the footprints

from the sand.

The natural swell

of an asynchronous orbit,

made only more egg-shaped

by the company of our Moon.

 

When the tide goes back out again,

it will expose the bottom feeders

and leave the rocks and beaches

covered in flotsam.

Crabs will scuttle about

the human remains that come,

brightly colored,

immortal plastic.

Discarded memories

rejected by the Earth’s single consciousness.

 

In, or out,

waves lap the shore.

Emerald green,

or slate grey, foamy breakers

roll in with manic regularity,

depositing fresh sand

and taking away everything else,

eventually.

 

Sitting here,

on this rustic little bench,

obviously cobbled together

with scraps of wood,

and with a small driftwood fire

burning at my feet,

and a glass of rum within reach,

I can stare out

and lay my gaze somewhere between

the forever sea,

forever sky;

doing my best to forget

that a terrorist just killed 80 people

who were celebrating a holiday.

 

Unsuspecting men, women, children,

caught by the high tide

of evil men

and savage rationale;

who, in the name of some insane God,

come with asymmetrical warfare

to wash away footprints

and leave garbage,

death and carnage

in their wake.

 

I take a long drink from my glass,

and head inside to bed.

Tomorrow will be a long day,

of cleaning beaches.

 

HG – 2016

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