Child on the Shore

Bless you for believing
that you could move the ocean inside a bucket
and calm Neptune’s infidelity.

Barefoot and mute,
you’re going nowhere, just as we
are destined to drift.

Yet we have the winds
and our guitar player to entertain us;
you have a cold,

and will be left behind
in an untold tale of infant mortality
while we move on, undaunted.