She’s a surfer girl, and she’s been out all day
in the golden Hawaiian sun, a goddess,
a vision in distant blue waters.
I come now, end of my shift, as the sun
goes low, already drinking a magnum
of red wine
as she sits out there, in the velvet light,
sitting on her surfboard, looking out
into the sea.
One last wave, as she turns away from
the horizon and it’s secrets, madness
and glides, one with the water.
She comes to shore, and I offer the bottle
as she sits down next to me, takes a swig,
still looks out into that dark ocean.
“What do you see?” I ask, taking the bottle.
“The God That Made The World.” She says,
“But The Devil is coming very near.”
She sighs, takes the bottle and a swig,
gives my shoulders a squeeze, than leaves
with the bottle and any hope for tomorrow.
