She takes a breath of distilled air,
At the beaches waterfront.
She holds the normal day within her arms,
Walks towards the burning sun.

She sifts the sands between her hands.
So soft are rocks and dirt.
Cushions body here, and wastes away,
Another shift of work.

She squints her droopy eyes and stares,
Like every day before.
Though the sun is slightly lower,
And closer to the shore.

With the motion of her fingertips,
She follows crashing waves.
She ponders questions never asked,
Though today seems right to pray.

And she says “Dear my sun of childhood,
Has the moon depressed your light.
It seems you’ve lost you luster since back then.
You’re dull, just not as bright.

The sand I sat on yesterday,
Was warmer upon my skin.
Should I count on oceans to warm me up?
Alas, I cannot swim.

I can look at you though less I try,
Your beauty seems askew.
I wanted sunset glazed with red and pink,
Though all I saw was blue.

Did watching us confuse you?
Have you learned from our distress?
In new days I need consistency,
To escape the man, depressed.

I tried to lift you with my heart,
Though mines already low.
Hear that? My boss is calling me.
Sorry, got to go.

Just tell me when your light runs out,
So I might prepare.
For then these scars won’t need long sleeves,
To shadows I may share.”

The preschool children roam memories,
As show and tell resumes.
“Today I’ll show you all my scars,
So we all, may curse the moon.”

She drops her hands to chilly sand.
“I guess we’ll both move on.”
Stares up, but doesn’t squint this time,
The sun’s already gone.

 
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