Poem: The Waves

 

I walk the pier, shunned

by the gulls, missing the echoes

of another pair

of footsteps.

 

I once cared to untangle

discarded fishing line and

repair damaged poles, but now

I count myself among the detritus.

 

The chipped railing,

gray with years of guts and rain,

does not cradle my arms comfortably.

 

I’d hoped you’d return to me—

an angel, a ghost, a mermaid, an unusual shell,

a clump of seaweed arranged just so.

 

Instead, I have the water.

 

Most look to the sky—I look

to the green depths and foam;

your whispers in the

crashes, our tears in the salt.

 

And the waves tell me

that there is such a thing

as eternity.

                                     by Katelyn Vause