round the wheel it goes
moon descension
soaked logs scattered
miles down the brown sand
used to be alabaster white
during summers
sine waves by the sea
100 degree weather on the weekends
storms and grey flint
arrow rain week days
joy of seeing my child
enter through the door
its wood slowly
opening
and letting the world in
the tales of the beach
concrete tunnels
with smashed
beer bottle glass
decorating more
than the graffiti
where we used to
skateboard
when we were kids
