The predawn stare
planning out the day ahead.
The treacherous stairs
down the side of an eroded cliff
every neighbor has them
row after row after row
a protective rib cage spanning the coast.
A century of family members trudging
along a worn out trip to the beach,
how time has taken from this place.
The gentle fog seems so peaceful,
as it roles in and out every day
grabbing with it’s long fingers.
This was a summer project perhaps,
a time when society freely gathered
to lend a helpful hand.
Today however, those hands want.
With just two weeks to restore
a safe well built pathway for friends.
What must of taken years to complete
will be dismantled and hauled by nightfall.
Uneven boards laid over sand
the sun bakes every bit of moisture out,
causing a twisted and contorted path
a broken spine spewing across the sand.
The once beautiful walkway allowed us
to walk hand in hand and make promises.
By myself, with the sun just coming up
I can only hope these new steps
will be used and walked on
for the next 100 years
through decades of change
long after I’ve left.