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14 May 2014

The Mariner

He piles the seashells in his bucket,
the waves crash in,
and he collects the songs and laughter
from the boardwalk,
locking everything
in his mariner's heart

His lighthouse eyes
allow the lost ships
to smash against the rocks
and sink into the depths
of his imagination

The mariner on the sand,
bucket full,
day ending,
waiting for morning once again.

He smells the salt spray
and the feces of
myriad birds

and the sweet aroma of little stands
nearby vending snacks and candy

and he piles still more shells.

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