Seaside

 Old men walkthe sands heads bentbody shrunk shoulder hunchedagainst the wind. Skaters skirtchildren’s scooters &  the foghornwarns of sea mist: ice cream standhand in hand the ghosts passsafe in their chosenparadigm. I’m sleepingmessages frombeyond, & you go onbelieving you’reimmortal.

Poetry