Shane’s Beach

by Shawn Aveningo

It takes more than a chair
to follow his path.
Sharks, sunscreen and jellyfish
the least of his concern,
for he leaves no footprints
in the sand.
Instead, two ruts
like those I imagine
of slugs on steroids.

With his comrades,
beached whales,
oil slicked birds,
feathers now flightless,
he tediously rolls on.
His palms calloused,
feet ever tender,
soon to realize
the closest to the sea
he’ll be
is the ocean’s roar.

Watching the others frolic
and splash in the waves,
and cupping the vacuous nautilus
to his ear, he listens
for God’s answer,
his daily plea…..

“Momma always says
I’m a good boy,
so why me?”


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