.

I am walking near the water`s edge,
shoes in hand, sand stiff-and-damp
from an earlier heavy rain and
trailing the shore because I want
to walk away from anything familiar
while dodging debris on the beach.

the air is thick with moisture. a
heavy-white sky is about to burst
upon this endless lake; if I could
slice it open with a knife, I would.

a dog with matted fur is charging past,
spraying sand and seaweed against my
skin; it tingles. perhaps someone is
calling my name although I am way too
preoccupied by not wanting to be
recognized by anyone today. I finally
turn around and there he is. andyonthebeach,
chasing his dog and laughing a soft "hello".
his arm brushes against mine; we stop to
talk about the the weather as if no time
has passed. I watch his eyes scan the
water for its farthest point. he inhales
the day; water, air and sky breathed-in
as if it is his drumbeat (the way my
father used to do). meanwhile, his
dog runs in circles around us,
enclosing time with levity. it
is exactly as I remember; funny
and serious allatonce.

this is the place where we first met.
two summers ago, our friendship
consisted of lying on the sand in
the sun, his dog nestled inbetween,
and both of us appreciating the
endless sky until it disappeared,
sharing the same kinds of silence,
understanding without expresing
too many words. like waves, time
was of no importance, nor was
there any urgency to rush or plan;
just a certain refuge in discovering
this in someone else. a simplicity
in the slow appreciation of beautiful
blue. I knew we`d meet again.

before leaving, he asks if I will be
there again this summer, in that same
spot by the cove. I nod my head
although in truth, I am uncertain.
his hand barely touches mine; I know
he is someone for whom there are no
expectations and equally, no pressures.
in knowing this, I am set free. after
parting, I turn around to note that
he is also looking back.

I continue walking until I reach the
lighthouse at the end of a pier. I climb
on top of its cement breakwall and from
there, I can trace the same length of
beach, knowing only space lies between
me and the city I've just left, its
incessant traffic streaming past parkland,
past towering office buildings and the
precise location of my life contained
therein but all of it diminished by this
slight distance. I am disentangled from
all of its upcloseness by this simple
shift onto a breakwall-point-of-view ...
as easy as taking off one's shoes and
just walking away.

as my father once said,
the shoe don`t make the soul.