The Outgoing Tide

Young lovers, we were;
fresh out of college,
set to tackle the world
and each other.
Moans in the moonlight,
kisses in the morning;
we were the type of couple
everyone admired.

Yet problems arose
out of the hidden darkness
of her plastic soul,
and the broken, rotten chunks
of my decrepit heart.
After the initial happiness
evaporated, and the masks
of fresh love were taken off,
we were left
with only each other.

But, to quench
one more day
that was sure to erupt
in gnashing, and gnawing,
we took a long drive
to visit the ocean.

I carried whole-wheat bread
to give to the screaming gulls,
while she carried her emotions
like a steaming cup of coffee.

But the sun did its magic.
We lounged around
for two hours or so:
not speaking too much.
Yet we began to smile,
and it felt lovely:
like revisiting a once-familiar place
thought to be forgotten.

Then, the tide came in.
Foamy water lapped up
the edges of the silky sand,
bringing forth seaweed
to line the grains like wet hair.

The two of us
took a walk, side by side,
to the end of
a giant, wooden pier,
littered with gull droppings and fish guts.
The ocean wind was blowing gingerly,
and the sweet-saltiness of the day
gently washed over both our faces.

Yet all it took
to ruin this perfect moment
was one quick word spoken
in a stroke of anger;
it prompted an act
that could never be undone.
Fish hooks, beer cans, and seashells
litter the bottom
of the great, blue-green ocean.
Now, so does something else.

As I sped away, alone,
I found myself praying
for those fish in the ocean
to have a mighty appetite
before the tide
goes out, again.


~J.V.Harker~
~Wednesday 19 July 2009~