10-Line Tuesday

October 22, 2013

trash mandala
Nags Head, North Carolina

Let your fear fumble on this sand, like the kids
who race the gulls and bobble earthward, then lose themselves
in a magic carpet of shells and leave the birds
to their flying. Let your grieving meet this
shoreline so when the tides advance, they will gift you their seaweed
in exchange for yours. Let your pain become a trash mandala
you shape into a bicycle, with bottle caps for wheels and a taillight fashioned
from a felled pacifier, and look how bright and possible the beach becomes,
even in your solitude, how the castoffs sparkle, how what’s been torn away
can still steer you through the dunes toward home.