of my former co-workers fr my Coney Is job, I started to miss those mornings, hurrying along the boardwalk with only a few minutes to spare before i would be late. Trying not to let the miracle of working so close to the beach pass me by-- the wind flowing across the water in early morning coolness, feeling like an epic, as i look across the so-far empty stretch of sand.
Sand still drains from hidden crevices in the comfortable running shoes that i wore for my marathon days of standing at that job. A Charles Simic poem my friends:
Couple at Coney Island
It was early one Sunday morning,
So we put on our best rags
And went for a stroll along the boardwalk
Till we came to a kind of palace
With turrets and pennants flying.
It made me think of a wedding cake
In the window of a fancy bakery shop.
I was warm, so I took my jacket off
And put my arm round your waist
And drew you closer to me
While you leaned your head on my shoulder.
Everyone could see we'd made love
The night before and were still giddy on our feet.
We looked naked in our clothes
Staring at the red and white pennants
Whipped by the sea wind.
The rides and the shooting galleries
With their ducks marching in line
Still boarded up and padlocked.
No one around yet to take our first dime.
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