To the Right of the Jetty
2009
There is a shifty and tingly sand made step
That I try to walk on as the waves come in.
My toes feel the rush of the ground moving away.
There is no fear and no worry, but more of a security
In the dance of ideas in my head,
Like when I was listening to Roxy Music in the summer
In the night on the beach alone.
But, when the water moved out again and I took that next step,
The solid packed sand felt sure, and to me the thought of you was clear.
I remember the firmness of that compressed substance,
And how hard I thought of it when I was nearing the pier.
Hoping that the rocks wouldn't cut the sole of my foot
On my way up the path to where I parked as I prepare to leave.
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