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Attracted as ever, by the sea, we lumber forward, bent downward,
Slowly succumbing to the pull of gravity.
It is, after all, inexorable.
Seagulls gawk as we trudge by, strangers turn astray.
Through a seeing stone the sea is crystalline,
Right here is good for me, this will do just fine.
So we sit and watch the world go by, strangers turning astray.
One day we were young and bold, now we’re just old.
It’s never too late to date, it’s never too late to sit by the sea,
This will do just fine, right here is good enough for me.
I am pulled by the wave’s weariness, the melancholy of the waves,
The birds that dive around us, gracious in the spacious vermilion sky.
I can’t see the horizon but I know it’s there.
A wrinkled squeeze makes me smile, and tapered time boards a slow train,
A dying flame that fizzles in the cold.
But heart’s still there, still pumping.
The sea’s still coming and going, and coming,
I wouldn’t describe it as flowing, but sometimes the watery arms reach out,
Soon I suppose, I will lick their salty fingers.
What advice to give? What wisdom to impart at a time like this?
When the wind just whistles amongst the pebbles,
And the clouds viscously lend each other their cloths.
Your eyes atrophy as we speak, your ears digress,
Your lungs are lining up for their last breath,
But not quite yet, not quite yet,
We still have the sea to enjoy.