the words
from repeating,
I concentrate
on the scenery
of breathing.
On mottled gray
beaches, I watch
with some relief
as, one by one, waves
take the place
of one another—
each doomed one
briefly assuming
it's the first
and the last
to reach land—
and the best—
before relinquishing
its grasp, ceding chattels
to the next.
And as I breathe out
and in again, a fresh
thought is expressed:
I'm glad I'm not
the only one
who does that.
