Hurry Up & Wait

From here the city is silvery
blue or white with
roofs walls doors
fishscale streets

The belltower of Holy Cross
dwarfed by the surrounding palm
trees descending at this angle it seems
downhill to the beach
where the wharf/pier dissolves so
easily in the late & early fog
The ocean is always beckoning
it knows more than you do
even when the waves aren’t pumping
I like the Boardwalk best on a cold
December morning the
concession stands locked up
the rollercoaster silent
& a gull lets loose with a choked cry
that falls somewhere between
hysterical laughter & sobbing grief

It’s hard to say exactly since
there’s just not that much difference
between the two