Past Street

Past street, sidewalk, hand railing;
Down below sea wall's containment
The water undulates along shore stone
Waiting
The passing of ship, boat, or barge;
Then breaking in long curling rolls of demi-waves
Shattering to run around pebbles, rock, and sand, laughing.
Then back.
Waiting.
Giggling.

Here,
I sit watching.
Putting fire to a large rolled tobacco leaf,
Blowing smoke out of the window.

Past street, sidewalk, at hand rail
She stopped to look out over waves and stony beach
Wishing there wasn't smoke.
Wanting me to be the old dream promise sent knowing
Heart and soul.
A touch, a truth, a wish fulfilled without risk.
"Come to me!" She wills.

Here,
I sit watching.
Blowing smoke into the street,
Seeking adventure in the bobbing of sea birds.
Watching the shore lick it's lips with yet another wave.
Watching her turn from rail to path; stepping away.
Watching the sun hide.
Watching smoke pirouette up into the night.

-Scott L. Strait