triumphant bells sound
as surf bums wash ashore
beaten by the beaten path.
the beach is full of empty shells.
here at the edge of all stories,
where everything begins, and ends;
( if you believe in those things )
a rainbow makes full use of its quiver,
striking against thickening gray manors.
eventually the fog breaks,
revealing the silhouette of a ship,
that’s neither coming, nor going.
merely awaiting its sailors.
each weighted with their own anchors.
a small group of students travel the banks
while discussing money.
“i’ve got $20.” a boy shouts.
“i’ve got $20 too.” screams his friend.
“fine… just leave me behind.” says a girl trailing in the background.
the life guards are now off duty.