a poem by Frank Diamond/Photograph by Sylvia Sherritze

I barely looked at the sea
Though I walked next to it
Almost every day
Swam in it, tumbled in its waves
Recognized the sound of
Distant breakers – but distractedly

Not like years ago when I
Would look for long hours
At its lonely continuance
A young man drifting
On melancholy so thick it masked
The brutal fact that I was happy

No, I barely looked at the sea
Maybe next year