On the beach II: Easter Island

A cheerful dirge — for the sun is up and there is all to play for

THE BEACH is where the

Haggard go to heave their

Grumbling bodies up

And down, as the statues

On Easter Island surely

Would had they access to

Lifting gear equal to the

Task — and been dug up first.

On the beach is where we

Dig in, not up. It’s where

We sink and then swim, a

Gallant inverse of earlier

Ideas of how things go in

Nature. The shingle is also

Greatly preferable to sand, which the

Young can never understand.

I want to die upon a shingled

Beach — preferably the one I’m on.

Want the tide to gather me from

My place of end and gently

Draw me in its arms to where the

Incorrigible shakes are never seen and

Pain is rinsed away like summer sweat

Running into endless playful Time —

Off the beach at last.