CUL-DE-SAC

A copper sun throws a gleaming path on the sea

As she runs and smiles over her shoulder at me.

The heat drove us here. 

Wet sand cushions our steps. 

And the ocean brings a welcoming cool 

To the sweltering air and makes her hair

Cling to her face and her forehead. 

We float in the water when the daylight will fade

Then the surf throws me back to where wishes are made.

Where my heart finds a home while the waves turn to foam. 

I’ll taste the sea in her mouth. Feel the warmth of her breast. 

Dark night brings its cover. We’ll be lost in each other.

Each house has a story and some might have two.

But I don’t mean two levels or what lives in the walls

Because house walls are dead. So’s a floor and a ceiling. 

The story is who will move in or move out.  

A home’s a way station and the story’s about  

A lonely old man. A big family that breaks up.

Could not pay the mortgage an investor then flips it

The house has been sold  and then passing time tips it

From fortune to backslide the district’s run down.

Could be an old house on the wrong side of town.

When it’s empty of life it becomes like a quarry

That scavengers pillage for another one’s story.

Floorboards and molding ripped out.

End up elsewhere.

Old wood turns to rot.

The old paint, it’s been peeling. 

I’m not in that place but I’m getting a feeling 

That I’m that old man in a big empty house. 

When the daylight dies down and I turn on the lights

I see walls, floors and windows a priest whispers last rites.  

Because life goes on elsewhere this space only echoes

The loan has been paid, all the history’s been made.