What if loneliness 

didn’t have to be

the end of the world?

What if, instead, 

it could be a beginning?

An invitation to admire 

strangely beautiful scenes

and just wonder,

for the joy of it, 

about everything.


Today, I cried 

at the beach.

I craved a lover 

to sit with me,

but my sadness

sat down instead.

It said,

I’m here, 

but there’s more.

Look, don’t you see?


Why don’t you try

making a sky 

inside of the lake?

Just kick the sand 

from the water floor,

and watch cumulus clouds

dance and dissolve. 


Don’t you see

those kids 


and smiling,

loud and full,


and being enough?

Don’t age out 

of what keeps you free. 

Be goofy,

and hop with the waves.

Become young

as often as you want. 


Have you ever 

considered the people

with stories that live 

on the other side

of the water?

Write novels 

inside your head

about their favorite socks

(the raggedy ones 

with a few holes),

that thing they said yesterday

and wish they could forget,

which people dependably 

call them on their birthdays,

and which folk 

they trusted to stay

only to quit their promise?


Maybe like companionship,

imagination is medicinal 

for the lonely.

Maybe after life grows old,

you’ll realize 

that some memories remain

while others wash away.

Maybe these lonely moments

are far more than thirst.

Look around you.

Look inside you.

See, you are full. 

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