by Benjamin White.
Say goodbye to right now,
And let time allow itself
To venture off and discover
A soft chance to squeeze through
So maybe
It can find a view
Worth looking at
As the seconds walk the path
Towards eternity
To set up
A beachfront kiosk
And sell memories
To the tourists
As the purists
Rub sunscreen on the new routine
Of ancient waves refusing
To touch the shore
While accusing the sand
Of youthful atrocities
(And of having
An even tan)
Watching the balance
Of talents shift
From old to young
While the songs being sung
Inside the shells
Are not the sounds of the sea,
But rather a steady melody
Of clocks
Coming in the off-season
To wander
Beneath the gray-storm
Of summer shaken
From the beach towels
At the end
Of the way
No-one can linger
Any longer
Than the end of the day
Will permit.