I – ephemeral –
wander about.
The sadness of a place
whose ruins
give the only semblance
of permanence.
The waves rinse the shore
awaiting the day
they can clean away
our presence
for good.
I feel their hunger –
hear them snapping their jaws
beneath their glossy
beckoning.
Clouds drift overhead –
dull, grey forms.
I touch the mossy stones.
Long gone and yet remaining –
they will outlive me yet.
A semblance of permanence.