sand

elbows, butt and heels in the sand
neck bent upwards with face to the hazy sun
an occasional wave can reach me
my son in the sand can teach me
it's june and i'm having fun

birds picking trash in the wash
i'm following them walk the line the waves make
just watching in a half-cool light wind
as our sand castles crumble again
tuesday afternoon and there's nowhere i have to be

some other time, tomorrow and yesterday can't find me
i'm buried to my ankles in the sand
the waves repeat the ten thousand things
that, and the wind, makes my ers ring
jon is pointing, but i can't hear what he's saying