Lands End Lookout
by David Rams
So you and I share a cold
cut sandwich, a weekday lunch
at Seal Rock Inn Restaurant
in a small booth, side by side,
facing out like that couple
caught in Hopper’s Sea Watchers.
I am hoping you’ll carry
our conversation. I try
focusing through the picture
window on the Pacific
horizon. In the foreground,
however, two teens enter
the scene, walking home perhaps
from school as we did. The boy
leads the girl from the crosswalk
to a bench where he sits and
places her foot up on his knee.
She folds her hands on her thighs,
smoothing her uniform skirt,
and balances on one foot
while he ties her sneaker lace.
Bunny ears or standard knot
I can’t see. When he’s done, she
puts her foot down and dusts off
his sandy pants. As he stands,
they lean into each other
and touch foreheads, cheeks almost.
Hand in hand they walk along
48th toward Sunset.
I hold my ocean view and
our distant conversation.
We are now at our land’s end,
and there is no turning back.