On the Beach

We waited on the beach for fifteen days in overcoats
We scanned horizon line but every time there was no boat

Nothing came
But we got used to it

In the end
We counted ourselves as

Flecks of foam
In the air

Specks of dust
Everywhere

We watched those thirty tides ascend and die before our feet
Then saw the sun and moon descend and slide right out of reach

Nothing came
But we got used to it

In the end
We counted ourselves out

Flecks of foam
In the air

Specks of dust
Everywhere