(this poem was inspired by the 1886 oil painting by George Seurat)

I walk in the final glow
Of fading sun
Along the shadows of stationary
Planks of rotted wood
And rusted nails
That barely support the weight
Of the stray dogs that roam the area;
And evening fills the air
With silhouettes against the sky
That heed the murmur
Of distant waves
Between the grace and the slime
Of shimmering chips
Of broken six pack glass
That trap the memories
In a ghetto of paradise.
And I am a stranger who writes the epitaph
For nameless faces of fallen prey
To the Angels of Darkness
Who twist and turn in the breeze
Of a slow and painful death
As they watch the gentle waves
Break at the shoreline
Between the trash and graffiti
And the salty mist
That blends with the tears
They never knew were there
When evening could last a lifetime
In noble minds of innocense lost.

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