The Cleansing Place.
The Cleansing Place
The sea shifts
all the people
and sifts every
grain of sand,
into half-melted castles,
and much
useless contraband.
At dusk,
daily events
are spelled out on
abandoned strands,
in bright confetti
tossed across this
endless water land.
The top of a bikini,
near two crushed cans of iced tea,
a flip-flop buried by
a box top flap from K.F.C.
one lens from lost sunglasses,
and some hair barrettes float free,
with sand pails left neglected
by some tots of two or three
all this and more is noted
near each leg of my journey.