Let It Be Recorded

Let it be recorded my wish to live where I can sleep in good weather or bad on a beach festooned in the bric-a-brac of the ages. Perhaps a vanishing glow far to the south all that is left of that common pestilence known intimately as a lifetime of earthly dues Now I am leaning with shoulders leeward still eyeing the reef submerged a ship's pilot steering his vessel beyond the shoals victorious to the open sea From breath to breath I exhale the plague once tyrannical against every stemming cell once dominant over every pulsing heartbeat. The sea now lives inside my cells where time itself tunnels the sun through woven matrixes a surface below tethered skin I can only hope as I fall into sleep that I soon be awakened to sea birds squawking at something of interest in the tumbling surf