"Longer Beach" - 3/5/2018

"Longer Beach"

the sands at Long Beach

breathe in and out like a slumbering

man, standing on the white

looking out over the sound,

Cat Island trees dot the horizon,

green caps on white caps, under phthalo blue.

in Long Beach, time moves sideways –

it feints. it falls

upon the slant of the sun’s rays and

settles in dog bowls and sunroofs and skylights.

silently, it cuts through windows

and makes your feet buzz

and your hands itch to

grab at tomorrow, which is also

next week, yesterday, and last year,

all of your days brimming over the

sands of the beach like high tide,

which is then washed away by the gulf.

this lasts for only moments –

overhead, gulls mumble and clamor

for food, they stumble over themselves

while you watch from the pier, boards creaking

under your feet as you step out

onto the water, look back –

see the streets like a grid,

parks on sidewalks where women

and men walk under the canvas

of the sky, painted white with clouds.