East Coast

Amongst the crowds

There are no individuals,

Only filled space.

‘Ships that have no home’

Sit in the crowded water.

They are waiting.

But for what?

They sit out on the grey

Their howls and bellows

Echoing across

The sea.

From the beach

They sound lonely and

Hollow.

Like the cries of

Children.

 

The rain plants tears

On my cheeks

And makes the waves

Ripple, the water cold.

The storm is in everything.

The sky, clouds, sea.

The trees, dead leaves.

A broken umbrella.

All are in

The storm.

 

I imagine I jump in

Swim away.

But behind these

Peaceful edges lies

A heaving metropolis.

And I’m just another

Green dot

Beneath this crying sky.

 

 

 

We’re in the dark now

But I remember

Lots of things.