A wave goes in and then

retreats, while another
crashes over your
insignificant head-- if
it’s warm enough

And the toddlers
run like sandpipers--
in and out,
in and out
until it isn’t really
worth anyone’s
while

Perhaps up in
the thickets, are
Libertarians and
such survivalists
and you’ll hear my
voice narrate:
I see, said the
blind man, when
he still couldn’t
see

Back to the ocean
and the pleasing
atmospheres
containing sodium
air and
unadventurous
tourists who
treat themselves to
skin cancer:

Slurred accents,
lobster traps
and a sense
of solitude to
share with anyone
and everyone.

And as the day
folds and the
windows go black,
keep in mind
that the icy
waves are still
speaking