Erosion

Most days I feel like a boulder just sitting in the surf. Please don’t think I’m attempting to ascribe the characteristics of a rock’s solidity onto myself. No, that is not what I mean. It just seems that everywhere I turn: out on the roads, among the throngs of shoppers, moms at the parks with their kids, my kids, even so far as social media sites that so many people are in a rush, a hurry, move it asshole! Now Now Now! You’re in MY way!

And there I am, standing all but still, watching them pass. A rock just letting the tide slap-up and wash around it. The water keeps rushing past it, hurry hurry, only to have life pull the speeding mass right back out to sea. Water that was in such a frothing rage moments ago to sweep past the boulder is now further back than the rock. The universal bitch of it is that every time the water pushes past the rock, coming and going, it takes little pieces of stone with it. A fleck here, a pebble there, until at some point that rock that stood, minding its own business, watching the world rush about in its always futile, redundant race to the shoreline, has been eroded away with the water and swept up in the tide…..