Beach

I wish I could follow the sand,

moving down the beach

like snow in an avalanche,

moving at 100mph.

Or seems that way anyway,

as the wind slaps

my hair back in my face

while I watch the sand.

I wish I could follow,

just go with the wind

and not care where I’m going

and not care that I’ve left.

But instead,

I

 walk

        backwards

so the sand

doesn’t get in my eyes,

leaving tracks

that look

like I actually went

somewhere.

 

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