Lone wolf at the beach 

The waves look drenched today.

One wave might be taller than the next which will be high enough.

Each wave dies the same death as the wave before it.

I almost drowned, once.

Some people play games with waves.

They ride them on boards like bucking broncos toward the shore

Sometimes drooping all ten toes beyond the nose of their decorative

Multi-colored vehicles.

I understand there’s a technical phrase for this ridiculous procedure.

I enjoy seeing the waves curl over the boys and girls like igloos

As if protecting them from becoming drenched.

The gathered applaud the riders for their accomplishments.

But I think it's the wave which deserves most of the credit.

Katsushika Hokusai's monumental wave serves me better

Than the homebound waves on the Spindrift at Horseneck Beach.

That's mostly because Hokusai's wave is still, flat and dry.

I’m usually dry. I’m a dry person. It’s my intention to remain

As dry as possible through the day and through the night.

But especially during my time at the beach.