Wet Sand (revision)

Another frozen morning at my favorite beach.

Again, I am here in time to watch the sun rise.

But there is never a sunrise here.

There’s just a slow rolling ignition of a gray sky.

 

I’m not exactly sure what draws me here this early.

Maybe it’s the sea spray that singes

my sinuses and cues memories of an awkward

but happy youth, picnics and sun screen.

 

Maybe it’s because of the arrhythmic yet steady

sound of the shore as the waves fold in on themselves.

Unsettling and calming in one breath.

The perfect scene for reflection.

 

The horizon seems to unroll endlessly into one blank strip.

I slowly edge in on the shoreline

and watch every wave lap against the earth.

I watch the waves delete my footprints .

Wet sand like blank paper.