The Shore

R. Milian


From the shore two boats move sideways in the distance like two ice skaters, and the sky reminds me of an immense field populated with sheep.

The waves reach the shore teasing my feet wanting to touch them,
but its foamy water decides to recede once again to its place of origin.

Bandit seagulls soar above the vast floating blanket decorated with fish, and I look at them with contempt for invading my privacy.

The sand has a soft feeling,
a yellowish curtain spreading for miles.

Sea and sky conflate to form a large window beginning to close slowly as the last breaths of light fall over the landscape.