Day: March 14, 2011
The Beach
There’s a paper bag of crushed strawberries
Lying next to me at the beach;
On the vast stretch of sand there is nobody;
I look up at the sky; the sky looks down on me;
/
It feels like lifetimes ago boys were playing here:
They were playing ball, and saw me;
The bag of strawberries slid out my trembling hands
And bled red under fast-running feet;
/
I could close my eyes, I could lock my heart,
But the rest fell and drowned in the sea;
From under the rolling waves I could hear the wind
And feel sunbeams burn marks into my skin;
/
When the storm had passed, I rose from the sand,
Picked my strawberries, washed my slow feet;
Yet, I never could leave that empty beach;
Until I die the sky will look down on me