Beyond the Whitecaps

Zach Weiner

Filled with glee, what a sight to see,
But here comes the waves and the beaches clear,
Everything vacates the shore and pier.
Clouds puff out and block out the light,
Thunderous bolts and plunderous night.

The carved castles crumble and caverns collapse,
Stuck in the sand, I need a map.

Alarm bells ring and stark muffled screams,
Filled the wary with wicked dreams.

Boats steer clear and white sails disappear,
No one left, no one near.

Calm as could be, through thick and thin,
Hours pass, next minute within.

The air becomes thick and gravity grows heavy,
Head on the ground, someone please save me.

I wake up, blinded by light,
I see no clouds in sight.

The waters calm and boats re-appear,
coolers filled with refreshing beer.

Towels lain out over the wreckage,
Last night’s misfortune, not a memory they reckon.

No recollect or heaving sigh,
Did you not see that others died?

Did you not see the pain?
Do you just choose to look away?

Beach balls blow in the wind and bellies full with brunch,
I have a hunch.
A mere observation of a depressing bunch.
Depressing in a way that fortunately can be explained.

“How are you doing?” Many would say,
But what happens if you don’t say “ok”?
What happens if life is not grand and picturesque,
And full of bushy bushy blonde hairdos and a bright yellow dress?

“Wouldn’t it be nice?” The radio sings.
Yes it would, yes indeed.