Like an Heiress

• Like an heiress, drawn to the light of her
• eye-catching jewels, Atlantic draws me
• to the mirror of my oceanic small-days.
• But the beach is deserted except for a lone
• wave of rubbish against the seawall -
• used car tyres, plastic bottles, styrofoam cups
• rightly tossed back by an ocean's moodswings.
• Undisturbed, not even by a sea bird,
• I stand under the sun's burning treasury
• gazing out at the far-out gleam of Atlantic
• before heading back like a tourist
• to the sanctuary of my hotеl room
• to dwell in the air-conditioned coolnеss
• on the quickening years and fate of our planet.