Saturday, September 4, 2021

Missing Myrtle - Day 5

 

Beach Morning
along the surface seagulls
graze for strays alone
and unprotected, moving
innocently from north to south;
boats pulling strangers
disturb the waters patrolled
by large prey who want to catch
a glimpse of oil baked tourists;
shell hunters cast their eyes
like fishermen whose pretense
points a finger at their silliness
even though pretenses are
dependant upon the weather;
like guards sell raffle tickets
for those services to cool
the bites of ocean jellies,
ignoring the jealous eyes 
of teenages seeking hookups;
sand dwellers play with
buckets full of water hoping
to build a castle that will
withstand evening attacks
while their neighbors smoke
joints taking chances that
no one is really paying attention;
home lives in us all regardless
of location or attitudes different
from those we left behind us.
25Aug21


An Emptiness
oblivious to all I sit here,
a wooden frame canvas chair
legs prop up feet out of the sand,
under an umbrella of shelter
from the relentless sun that
darts in and out of sky clouds
so prevelent, no signs of blue show;
dirty water approaches in a series
of cascading waves with white
foam on top like vanilla ice cream
dripping down the sides of a waffle 
cone faster than licking tongues;
a distant horizon contrasts with a
pale grey blue sky and no hard sign
that the water has reached its edge,
as confused eyes imagine the worse
and hope dictates otherwise and
our thoughts return to more pressing
matters and staying out of the sun;
blurred vision mistakes people
for sharks as seemingly dark fins
dash through the water not influenced
by the currents or the undertoe and
fears send chills up and down the
mindless thoughts that dwell inside the
empitness of one's complacent attitude;
folded pages of memories resurface
and awareness of time limits the
confusion that life had momentarily
drifted away from all points-of-view.
25Aug21


Washed Clean
days surrounded by humidity
uncomfortable chairs cause
spells of standing silence...
eyes dart back and forth at
at all the obese beauties strolling
as if their beliefs left town in
an earlier bus...  paying cash from
the money saved on reservations;
talent scouts watch football tosses
from the seniors who decided
to play hookie from class...
popping pills to stay awake after
the all night drive to the beach;
longitude of thoughts pass
through my open mind acquired
as a teenager in a foreign land
when traveling could revolve
around three dollars a day;
sand encrusted toes stare
back at me from the end of
a footrest as each toe wiggles
to ensure adequate blood flow
while the heart races to keep
a low pressure even though
pills are taken daily...  and,
music streams into the ears
from an era where lyrics were
more important than rhythms.
25Aug21





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