Sliding my soles on this sandy road
I am the only sound
except for the shuffling of waves.
With delicate pops they mold tiny mountains
in the coastline.
The water
never betraying
always disappointing
but nobody blames the water.
A harsh response in nature is acceptable...
Tempting me to test the tidal force of my hand,
but I hesitate
and know that nobody would blame me.
However, my hands keep to my pockets
lonely on either side,
clasping nothing except my keys
and a quarter or two.
The creature within myself
feels only this suppressing force...
of vulnerability, assuredness, and cowardice.
And as high tide rolls in
I'm aware only that these suppressions
are unnatural.
I enjoyed how you described water. I have a bias toward it. I enjoyed the parallelism to your own contemplation and behavior.
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