The Sea in Autumn 10/08

The boardwalk is empty
The beach is closed
Yet the sea only knows
That it is colder
It takes a daily count
Of the souls it has swallowed
And I stand between the carousel
And the ticket booth
Alone
While the wind infiltrates
The holes in my flimsy jacket

I think of where I could be
At my age
Raking leaves
While a twelve year old golden retriever
Runs around messing up the piles
Mindlessly sipping Coors light in a recliner
Enjoying a state of utter complacency
Then the whistle of the wind
Brings me back
And I contemplate my solitude
While the termites in my soul
Gorge themselves
Then commit suicide
By jumping into the sea
Inside of me

Is loneliness self imposed?
Or is there a well orchestrated plan
To mold me into a more complete man?
The cold sea is the sandpaper
And my tears the lubricant
In a perpetual process of refinement

I cling to a fragile thread of hope
And know God intends
Something better for me than this
He helps me cope
He keeps me warm
Against the wind
Waiting for the unexpected
Soul renewing kiss