Pier

I spoke with the ocean today. At last I spoke with the ocean, whispered long soliloquys into the rolling waves, carefully against the watchful eyes of gatekeepers but still, unabated, there was poetry. So late in summer, this year a strange marvel, this year a strange answer to our asks of the universe, but once my feet stride into that surf how it feels like home every time. We lit birthday cake candles in the sand and reapplied sunscreen, when at last the ferry came to take us home I slept a peaceful, masked sleep and for short moments this life is so simple. We sailed across the williamsburg bridge in the late afternoon, climbed a roof to watch the sun set behind it, I asked him what he’d wished for over sweaty summer cake and he said peace. The life was not so hard, then.

How each wave breaks,
I thought,
And builds back up again.