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Any Other Place But Here, Any Other Time But Now

We're staying at the guest house. The day,
opening on a stretch of sand,
waves us over like the hand of someone we love.
Our shoes, piled on a heap on the porch,
become temporary nests for seagulls
who seem untroubled after having caught
the last afternoon shadow. You have been

talking about how things used to be; about
the time you walked away from me, thinking
is it possible not to see
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6/15/2021 1:01:46 AM # 1.0.0.623