For Regan, on her birthday.


my feet buried deep in bountiful beach debris, 
I bask in the glistening sun, 
through tingling sea-salted lips letting slip 
coffee-scented whispers… 


I like it like this, 
listening to the foaming water hiss 
between my toes lined with stony sea-grit, 
wishing the sun would wait just one more hour 
before sinking behind the tired clock tower. 

And as the buildings assume a yellowish tone 
I begin to feel blue in this mellowing town, 
for the numbing sound of the tolling bell, 
a calm, gentle and timely farewell, 
can’t help but ricochet like a hellish echo, 
for how in the hell can I possibly go 
and hold this moment forever only in my memory?

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