LIFE HAS THE FORCE OF A COLLAPSING STAR
It is factual in a way
The particulars of the lens in which the hand gestures,
The way a constellation of contemplations
Has command of the beach.
Salt water soaks through pants-
You didn’t have to be on the shore just then
Within the inclination of the king tide-
Or mounted in the lap of the oranging Pacific-
Waves breaking on the wooden pylons of a touristy pier,
The sun warm
The wind cold.
Both are the same, you know,
The water acts
Endless and beyond the eye’s scope
Beautiful and dangerous
Dark and hidden
Scarred, hurt, polluted
Filled with joy.
When we finally do refract an ending
There is a hole
People will begin filling
With the way we seemed to them,