She didn’t really sleep
just dozed
rolling on her side
before resting again
like the small wave unable to reach the shoreline
gathering back up and moving again out to sea
then meandering north to another beach.
Trees covered people
or children
to lazy to wear hats
as they jumped and splashed their way into the deep
flags continued to wave at him
beyond a glass like exterior
reflecting an outside world
removed and distant
To far away to divine
to lazy to feel challenged
he rested
until those running feet and high pitched scream’s wound back his clock
to where blue filled days washed with palm laden headlands surrounded his soul
silencing the questions
bringing to life her face
she awoke, with eyes smiling
before lying on her side
his side.
The last wave rider stretched sideways then up
toward another morning with pink filled sky
of broken mountains, covered with fog
riders closer to shore accepted smaller waves
dancing toward the palm trees ashore
on shorter fibreglass craft
he sat upright
hands on knees
surveying two smaller islands to the east
where sunlight lay
a seagull followed a fishing boat north
then returned
only to land
where the wet sand meets the dry
the water line returned again to the ocean
Leaving the seagull to ponder on a dry, softer bed of sand
lulling over another wave, the furthest from shore
he waited
only to sit up again
arms upon knees
now his wave approached
white water washing him up
He stood to search for an unbroken face
a glassy crest
upwards then down
pirouetting aloft
fast then slow
slowly met by that white water again
with it’s ever racing speed, crushing, surging, and swallowing
Beach
breakfast
salt
salty hands
the last wave slept
amidst a seagull lined shore
beneath that cluster of surfers
inviting him to return
to surf
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