Gurjieff

Remember ‘I am’—

whatsoever you are doing.

G.I. Gurjieff

The boardwalk has the perfect

kind of wind, slight, just enough

to warrant the orange sweatshirt.

I borrowed from my mom, I think

it says love, and I wonder if this

is why I see so many smiles. This

is my town, my ocean, got swept

up in riptides, learned to swim,

had many birthday parties here.

Ate sandwiches with this sand.

Rode this roller coaster and hunted

grunions at night. Squirly and

squishy and smores always after.

With bonfires before they banned

fire. And bottles of anything. And

being out late at night. Was the

world safer then? Or did we just

think it was? Now we know every

war on every inch of the globe.

Now we know too much and can’t

do a thing. But doomscroll. And

watch apocalyptic anime. But

today, at Mission Beach, at

this precise moment—there is

no war. Only sunshine. Crashing

waves, and the lady on roller

blades singing Beyonce. And the

cyclist sunning himself.

Remembering.