The Seashore

— Vuong Vu

“It is always ourselves we find in the sea.”
     — ee cummings

The older I become, the more I am
like the seashore. Most days I wake
before the sun and lie in wait
for morning light. Salt crusts
the shallow pools of my eyes,
my bones feel cold as clam shells,
and I am tired. I am to tired to bother
with happiness. I’ll let gloom and fog
roll in and roll out of my life.
My little fits of storms clear away
by mid-day, and the sky opens again
to blue. I am my lonely seashore.
Listen: Do you hear the waves?
A sky full of birds, the clouds rumbling
like the sails of a ship?
Can you hear the breath of sunrise
                               and sunset?

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