Beach Walk Days After A Memorial

 

There’s a reason we call it fall, 

a season to let go, 

to ride the currents of water, of air, 

to flutter ashore, 

as the tides change, as the deep 

night calls—

 

--calls us all, eventually, 

the small round sun mirror jellyfish, 

pink salmon honing in on their first home,  

Alder leaves from green to gold, 

all, finally rest as one.

 

Its been said death does not discriminate.

 

No amount of power or privilege 

can stave the stealer of breath, 

the stopper 

of hearts, 

the moment 

warm blood 

turns cold.

 

We all decay with time. 

These flesh and bone bodies 

that hold us aloft 

decompose, 

cell by cell by 

cell…

 

Imagine if we saw 

ourselves as one, 

one giant living dying 

compost pile of humanity, 

fluttering ashore, 

as the tides change, 

as the deep night calls.

 

We stand divided by fabricated 

stories of superiority, 

fish tales devised to support 

economic fissures, 

to keep the fat happy 

and starve the rest who 

blame each other for their empty 

plates as the jubilant belly-shakers 

stuff their gold-lined chambers 

with more and more and 

more…

 

And yet they too will fall, 

 

with the the translucent jelly, 

the humpy salmon who slowly 

morph from radiant silver 

to shaggy white, the leaf 

that crumbles ashore on the once 

giant mountains turned to sand 

the color of deep dark night.

 

 

Comments

[Valerie Demming]

Wow! so full of imagery...

[Christy]

Thank you Valerie:)

[Nancy Yeaton]

So picturesque with the rhythm of life intertwined with nature and truths of mortality we face on a daily basis. Beautifully written...