Rushing water undermining millions of granules
of wet sand, shifting it under my cold bare feet, even
as the shoreline beckons me closer to the edge,
intimately asking to delve into its mysteries.
The constant wind takes my whisper of thoughts
to the waves, rolling them over and
under the foam, jumbling the unspoken words,
luring them into anonymity, unseen, forgotten.
Drowning the unpleasant recollections,
sinking the recent wounds deep,
disappearing completely into
the murky tide laced with dead things.
The water enticing, stretching and reaching,
ebbing in and out, chasing itself, renewing.
Dissipating the graveyard of burnt memories
coarsening silently in the cold depths,
becoming nothing more than a part of the
undercurrent, the rush of new surf persuading
a sand-caked stone back ashore
to rest on the sand, without memory.
Basking intrepidly under the sun imperceptibly
before being unknowingly kicked, tumbling freely
back into the waves by the next nameless foot.