Old Orchard Beach, ME. . .November Walk

The sea curls
around itself like liquid glass
in the light of this early morning.

November chills my cheeks
and my nose begins
to condense the air-
drips joyfully
with each step
along the sand
where the weariness of days
filled with too many troubles
dissolves into the saline solution
and fades.

I smile and greet
the pink faces
of other inmates
set free into the yard
for meditation
and the medicine
of this hard labor
of hours and hours
of listening
to the whispers
of the dark water
against the brilliant moon
and vigorous fall stars.

We look briefly at each other
and return to the silent chanting
in our heads
that will release
the Gordian knots--
the confusion of these ropes
that gather like detritus
on the edges
of this nearly frozen
landscape.

My joints ache
and my heart
nearly bursts
with the knowing
of the kindness
in the eyes
of all these strangers.