Burden

To be a burden means to not use the tools strewn about. The rusty trowel and bucket filled with half-thoughts. Be a burden. Your words are just wailing and buzzing at us. I can be a burden. I can dig little holes all around the sand. I can bury little toy soldiers. But under the sand means nothing. It just gets footprints, and litter, and walking over and over. So what we bury will creep back. We can be burdens. Throw away our shovels, rakes, and nails. Let them be as scrambled as we were. As they pick up the resources scattered about. There’s no such thing as support. Nothing real. Digging new holes everywhere. But I can never bury any thought or idea. Just scraps of my eternity. I can be a real burden sometimes. In this exacting and grueling way. We can be real burdens some days. I drove my car to the beach one summer day. Wondering what the waves wanted this time.