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.