some of us are fortunate -
our shores are sandy beaches
occasionally blowing over
with an aching dust-
often meaningless, yet
bearable

clouds drift languidly
over them
as if they were a break from
the balmy days of
self reflection

but most of us
our shores are scattered with rocks,
scree and boulders
worn down by
the relentless whims of ocean borne
storms
hurricanes that feel entitled to destroy
everything that piques thier fancy

avalanches of ignorance
come tumbling
off the great, hulking,
blind land masses

these hulking shadows, these blunt winds
they are
so pervasive

very nearly
inescapable