Sat on the beach
Witness to the foam.
Ebbs and flows,
memorial to discarded coats,
and broken shoes.
buckles ripped off,
and the water,
carries them home,
in a sea, of emotion,
wave goodbye,
as they drift.

Wander away,
in the sand,
a bicycle discarded,
think once,
it may have been pink,
a child at play.
touch the bicycle once,
hand moved,
now it's hot,
too hot,
been in the sun too long.

Now maybe it's junk,
not a Chinese cultural vessel.
Move it,
with an old towel.
Lean the bike,
against the promenade rails.
Maybe the owner will come back to recover it.
Or maybe A.N.Other will scavenge it,
the ancient adage speaks,
"one man's meat is another mans' poison"

In the cafe with grey melamine tables,
you drink your white coffee,
slowly from the nasty tasteless cup.

Well, the coffee's done,
They are gone,
the bike remains,
a memorial ,
To the thoughts of the poet's pen,
being washed out to sea.
(C) Livvi