Journal 6-Stephen Rechter

How Far do I go?


I walked through glaring, flashing lights of color and noise.

I walked through the parade of drinks and food,

waste and consumption to reach the lonely, desolate beach at dusk.


I walked through the sand, closer to the great emptiness of the sea

and stared up into the sky as a full moon

rippled hauntingly onto the water.

the abrasive lights of waste, booze, and carelessness from

the string of hotels down the beach

overcrowded my vision.


So I walked.

I walked past old men enjoying a nostalgic fishing trip.

I walked past children with flashlights and sparklers,

their beams giving away their positions from far, far down the beach.


I walked past restaurants and abandoned shacks;

do not enter signs and a fence sealing off a poorly-kept private beach,

but still I couldn’t shake the lights.


So I kept walking.

I walked past a gift store and a boatyard.

I trekked through a mountain of rocks and past a building crumbled from storms past.


I walked all of this way until I reached a lighthouse.

Abandoned and ancient, but the door was unlocked.

I climbed to the peak to find an old chair sitting lonely

and ominously in moonlight.

I sat, exhaled and could finally smoke in peace.

One thought on “Journal 6-Stephen Rechter

  1. Nico

    I really like your usage of repetition: saying “I walked” repeatedly gives it a very real form of progression throughout the poem. Same with the different descriptions you have of the scenery, I really like that. Well done!

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