And Counting

by May 11, 2019 0 comments

30 seconds of summer
hardly seem sufficient
to kid myself
that I’ve been invited
to the same beach party
as everybody else, the one
that’s been swinging
since cavemen beat time
on rocks and skins:

but 30 seconds is all I take
to cross the road to the office
and squint regretfully
up at the sun, remembering
the boy I used to be
standing by the water crying
come on, come in…
– and look; my summer’s done

editors note:

A lifetime of waiting on that wave, till comes the end to endless. – mh clay

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