Beneath the infernal furnace of the sun,

I wade along the shipwrecked shoreline

Abandoned as if the Black Death had come

With the garden of umbrellas left behind

To protect the fortress of stone and sand,

But the wind and the waves erode the beach

As time elapses slowly upon my demand

With Summer opportunity out of my reach.

I pace with despair upon the plank dock,

As the ocean oppresses my balance

While I hear the chiming of time clocks

Here, to limit my last independence.

So I walk back to the concrete world

Where I cement my unknown future,

And slowly my shroud is unfurled

If I choose to be some dead creature.

I observe the crimson sun over the water

Knowing the sand grains are quickening,

And I must make my decision

But no one is listening

So, away I wander

To walk,

To wade,

And wait.