Monday, October 05, 2015

Poem - Perhaps

he is alone
on the beach
with a selfie-stick
going through the motions
digging in the sand
frolicking in the waves
sending pictures perhaps
to a woman far away

in halting
pantomime he moves
pacing out and redoing
one shot or another
getting the splat of a wave
against him how fun
how refreshing it is
see you soon

the choreography
becomes painful
the sun is hot for his dog
so he decides he has enough
with the phantom beguilement
he has spun
walks up the cliff
limping just a bit

when he is gone
i don’t know
if i should be angry
amused or afraid
the sun is the same
and so are the waves
his staggering dance
just holes in the sand


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