Opportunity

I keep mulling over what was said
Passing it between my hands
like a warm ball of dough.

When I was younger I used to let
the sea direct my movements.
I would stand just beyond the reach
of its sputum-covered fingers as they were
Grabbing at the rocks
And if the lunge of a wave
salted my face and stung my eyes
I would go one way. And if not...

Things are heavier now, and anyway
I live miles from the coast.