Like forgiving lighting in photography

Like forgiving lighting in photography
the sun splayed its evening generosity
across a scene that felt unreal even then,
to those of us who were there. We stood
on Pismo Beach and it felt like the end
of a story we only then knew we’d been
telling for years, a memory I cherish
even now, in the rubble. The sun set
and we ate cheeseburgers in the glow,
more clinical, of an In-N-Out. When
California fell into the sea, we flew east,
chasing what remained, over boundless
land full of empty parking lots, left over
from a more prosperous time. I wanted
to go home and found myself, always,
a perpetual hour away. I need you
to know that at times, our secrets curled
like bare toes in the sand, I still listen
for your staccato voice and hear nothing
but the echoes of dead tide, an ocean at rest
with no more moonglow to bear witness.