The languid density of August damp polyester, coconut-oiled skin caked by loose, tawny sand we squat amid scattered popsicle sticks shards of beer bottles, cigarette butts plastic straw wrappers our view lined with concrete high rises late afternoon’s blandness is disturbed first by color: an orange foreboding sickly sky wilted water brick-red waves sea foam, iridescent milk
then by wind: a whispering at our ankles a wet gasp rises from the ground
then by a growl: humble yourselves, warns the cloud
we stand
aghast
at the world’s edge
beauty and savagery imminent three slick cormorants slice the amber sky ancient pelicans retreat in a single line plovers, scattered crumbs, evaporate beneath our feet hermit crabs disappear diagonally into burrows swollen air presses down our chests
we feel a black gathering like shame in the back of our minds knotted at the nape of our necks that sweats and gurgles we, ignoble multitudes, shrink and huddle elbows quiver goosebumps sweep our calves sky’s fierce gaze miniaturizes our bodies
At the doorway of dream
we know
we know what is coming
It speaks:
How long did you think you could live like this?
Photo Credit: Gregory Hardison