vacation brings out the worst in me
aren’t the shells
that wash up on the beach
the detritus
which the ocean spits out
isn’t it a little sad
that the pretty shells
are picked up
and the broken ones rejected
we catch glimpses
of porpoises
but the vast, teeming life below
goes unseen
i think i’m missing
the best of the show
~~~
though
the sunset was pretty
baby colors
pink and blue
the gentle sound
of the surf
on a calm day
is soothing
it masks sounds
other’s conversations
and marco polo
at the nearby pool
i wish i was insensitive
to such things
~~~
i don’t like
that i’m stepping
out of myself
i’m not in the moment
relaxing is
exhausting
thoughts
without direction
the gulf
is
very gentle
no surfers
i miss the city
the homeless never play marco polo
~~~
Poetry by one trick pony
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Written on 2015-02-08 at 14:34
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Lawrence Beck |