an encounter with a mortal angel

the past presents itself
in the future. clear as the sight 
from the edge of land to near infinity.
salty-peppered ashes are laid gingerly
with the longing bitter-sweet taste 
of this drifters forgotten someday. 

waves from the vastitude bring
boundless shells that sprinkle
across the shoreline, imitating
the scattered glass shards from 
broken beer bottles on the
gas stations lamplit asphalt. 

we said salutations. chuckled at the
silliness in this coincidence. there is
a resemblance with how the moon
idly sings to the tide and how we
seldom spoke to each other. 

and just like that. the old moment 
in thought is lost, and i am awoken
from my nostalgic daze in memory
to the rhythmic sound of the moon
leisurely bidding the tide in
to carry on their annual song.