A grey beach on a grey day
With only a thin white line
Separating sea from sand,
The last of the boundaries
Between the flesh and spirit,
A simple drawing of breath
At the end of endlessness.
There's a cloud left of Maui,
Its phantasm figures more
Visible than the actual
Dolphin expressway we crossed
Or the lava goats out of
Nowhere who appeared like thoughts
From the copious head of Zeus.
But the stones move too slowly
Next to us, who, in a flash
Deliver justice in the
Guise of love (and vice versa)
Long before the first droplets
Hit the black hills of ocean.
Whatever the water feels
Still courses through our spirit
Like the sweetest of trade winds
On desolate strips of coast.
