My bare feet touch every dampened board
as I walk along the sand-dusted pier.
Seagulls cry softly in the background
as salt coats my skin.

A shadow dashes by muttering
angrily. I follow and his pace quickens
faster and faster until we are running.

The waves grow taller the further we run
until we reach the pier’s end.
The man stops and turns toward me.  He grips the railing.
His mouth opens to speak, but the swell breaks.

I find myself back on the beach watching
the waves drift in and out, eating away
at the land. Yet nothing changes.