On the Beach
We waited on the beach for fifteen days in overcoats
We scanned horizon line but every time there was no boat
Nothing came
But we got used to it
In the end
We counted ourselves as
Flecks of foam
In the air
Specks of dust
Everywhere
We watched those thirty tides ascend and die before our feet
Then saw the sun and moon descend and slide away right out of reach
Nothing came
But we got used to it
In the end
We counted ourselves out
Flecks of foam
In the air
Specks of dust
Everywhere