Photographed February 2 2014
The whole world is so small
Viewed from down here
Near the high tide mark
Of a low tide
Mid Sunday afternoon
With the briny smell
Of the teaming planet
That lives in between
And with it being summer
And with the sunshine
Where it ought to be
And the tentacles
Of my relationships
Intact or relatively free
From showing fracture
And food in my belly
And the prospect
Of more to come
And the sounds
Of the seawalk
Surging past
Being of happiness
Or at least acceptance
That this circumstance
Has thrown us together
This close to the security
Of my home
Which some say is rented
But which I say is leased
Being a truer form of ownership
Requiring us to share
Without which
Is ownership of nothing
Like being stranded
Above the high tide line
Or drowning beneath the low
Instead of renewing the lease
That twice daily washes over us
And never at the same time
Urban Action w/Poetry 