I sit at a wooden bench
faded and etched with words of old love
who was here before me, and before them?

My eyes are thrown out to the sea
wrinkled blanket of green and blue.
That knot in my head has been soothed

by the salted air and the sun
and the delicate pebbles beneath my feet.
And I am grateful to be here.

There's something so beautiful
about this beach with the pulsing and hum
of a city so close

and everything that this city holds
that you, or I, don't know.