Coconuts

A virgin beach

A sandbank covered with coconut trees

Swaying gently to the wind

Telling the tale of change

Each sway ticking time off

The eternal clock of hope.

A rush, a whoosh and down falls

A coconut, hard and fibrous, yet soft and gentle,

I watch it slowly roll down the sandy slope

With a gentle splash it enters

It enters the oblivion of the vast ocean

I watch it bobbing in the distance

As it slowly fades into the horizon,

As a speck of hope in the horizon disappears

Another falls and begins its seemingly long and inconsequent journey…

The coconuts move on

So does time

But I still stand there

Refusing to accept oblivion

Refusing to accept change

Slowly the coconut trees are outnumbered

The coconuts reduce

The silence pierced by whirring noises made by man

One last coconut falls

And with it fades the hope for man

As the noises continue

Few realize…

The alarm has begun to ring.