September 24, 2013

When the water comes
Towards the beach
But yet to reach
The sandy shore
It is quiet

Startlingly quiet

The jagged hemisphere wall
Of salt eaten coral
Behind me
Feels like being
In the confines
Of a Greek amphitheatre

And the silence;
It’s like stepping
Into a void
Of so much space
And nothingness
Stretching to the sea
And further on still

A silent eternity

Even as I move
To sit better
I feel loud and intrusive
And quietly beg pardon

Made of Sand
Not Dura, but Alaminadura

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