On the beach.

Thoughtless and seemingly random sounds of the waves
That come to die on the shores from the vast loneliness of the sea,
Tell a strange story.
They bring back the memories of my childhood,
And of an infertile old mango tree,
That used to grow in a house where I once lived.
A house with large, curtained, windows,
Green grass in the front lawn,
Eggplants in the backyard, and annoying
Sugarcanes that attracted a lot of insects.
What I remember the most about the sugarcanes
Is that they were heard to break
And mostly weren’t sweet at all.
But the sea is a totally different thing
It was the same during my childhood.
The only difference is that the waves used to throw
Assorted useless things like used, faded sunglasses,
To the shores, and when I wore them then,
The whole world seemed beautiful.