Bonfires lit, all up the shore
sparkling from deep, pitted holes in the sand—
sticks were held aloft
burning orange in the glow
and I was a wanderer
escaping through the stalks
of thick sea grass
that burnt legs with their harsh touch
in protection of their boarders:
thousands of transparent horse shoe crabs
each the size of a single grain of rice,
twisted over one another.
Noise is far away and
distance is multiplied
against the darkest skies.
As the last threads of purple
dissolved below the horizon
a boy lay on the road
up the stairs and slept
by the soft thrushes
in the sandy trail.