I wonder as I stare at the screen
if there really comes an end to things.

When the snow melts, does winter
cease to be? Or how about sunlight?

Will tomorrow come after dark
and moonlight bounce life around?

Does not the sparrow, darting
to build its nest, soon abandon it?

And the sandcastle’s dynasty
lasts only until the tide rises

Movies, too, wind up and
then, like clocks, down

And my love of cream corn
ended the day it made me sick

Much like the Boardwalk’s Big Dipper
whose ride thankfully ends

As do the carefree days of childhood
And the hopes of new friendships
before reality sets in.

True, summer is endless in Santa Cruz.
True, summer is endless in Santa Cruz.

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