Seashore

The rolling waves lap
At the distant shore, as though they forgot
What they came here for.
The flats of sand
Stretch all around
Firm and smooth
An endless ground.
The tide is out; the seabirds play
Screeching and fighting
All the day
Till the tide comes in
And covers the sands
And they hover deprived
Of anyplace to land.
The grey sky reaches
Down to the sea
The seabirds screeches
Are heard by no one but me.
This lonely place
This desolate shore
What on earth
Do I come here for?
I like the waves, whispering grey
I like the winds, so far away
I like the seabirds, desolate cries
All is reflected
In my washed out grey eyes.
Away from the concrete
Away from the rain
Away from the cold street
Away from the pain.
I turn. I go. You're waiting at home
To fuss over my sandy boots
To drag my hair with a comb
And the next time I'll come here
And I'll be alone.
The footprints I leave
On the soft, sandy shore
Stay printed till the tide comes
And covers them o'er.