It’s one of the few things that makes me feel alive
It’s why, in my late 20s, I told my boss I didn’t want to strive
No, I don’t want all the shiny things
I’m not a puppet on a string
So I cut my hours back
To corporate, it seemed whack
Time is gold
And fleeting like sunlight on the trees
Or like a wave crashing
We’re all getting old
The obituaries remind me I might not make it to my 401k
So what’s the point in being a slave
So I go to the beach every chance I get
At home now, where I sit, the cumulonimbus clouds have passed
But on the beach this afternoon, they left me aghast
And that shimmering water in which I waded
The sight of my pup swimming in it, left me elated
Will life in the end be like looking through that water so clear
Or up into those clouds that disappear
No one at the office will remember me
And 401ks don’t last for infinity
Maybe I can die on the beach
Time spent living is time spent dying
So let me out of the in-box, unleash me from the keyboard
Put me on the shore
I want to look through the water as long as I can
Fix my eyes on the heavens and the sunset
Breathe each cycle, each tide, with no regret

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