by Elena Hayashi
À la plage, the day melts
The waves crash, again, again –
they break their names upon me
– and leave, while I remain
Blue dissolves into violet,
Violet into yellow gold
Maybe Monet May have rested here
Chasing the gradient light
Leaving a permanent trace of the sun
Now others come –
They sit, they watch, they eat tiramisu –
But I –
I keep my place
No hands, No voice,
Just “The Rock” à la plage
