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Nantucket: Surfside Beach, June 13 6:05 pm
It's so strange
I've been in Nantucket a month now, yet i've only seen you [the ocean] twice.
Two twenty-something's are fishing: one wears Oakley's, the other a Red-Sox cap.
The waves bury the silence.
The ocean becomes a giant tablecloth, falling, twisted edges waiting to be straightened.
I'm near an airport; half a dozen contrails fill the sky.
The leaving airplanes are silent: ghost-like wings and seagulls soaring towards an ocean of skylines
Mid-June and I've called home once
The clouds disappear into the ocean and resurface into hundreds of rigid branches
the waves are...
white, green and blue
two
three
four seconds apart
two lifeguard stands rest on a dune
one is fallen like a wretched pawn in a twisted game of beach chess
hundreds of misguided footprints look like pyramids; a dissheveled Egypt near one Nile that flows yet feels of sawdust
