Michael Mintrom
Bus Terminus Near Breakers
Remember how it appeared from nowhere
as you arrived with friends by bus,
leather whiff of warm upholstery, cloud of diesel.
Summer: A handful of days, sand through fingers.
You carried for years that small blue world.
Cool breezes bend marram grass,
rattle the empty shelter.
Beach towels and laughter, long gone.
Walk anyway.
Joy and fate still out there, surfing.