I find scattered flip flops on this Lake Michigan beach
More to the point, a flip flop
In decent condition, surprisingly
Not softened like bottle shards into jewelry fodder by waves and sand
It looks both satisfied and forlorn
Like one eye socket is staring out to sea
Waiting for the eventual return of its mate
While the other gazes lazily at itself
Ripe and confident in its place at the heart of
The summer apex of consumerism's promenade
Its life cycle and shelf life so short
It can not conceive of the first frost that looms ahead
Like a gap in an otherwise well maintained railroad track
Nor the frozen wasteland of the city dump
that particular gap in the tracks
leads to
Copyright 8.10.2016 Jonathan Reuel
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