Eternal triangle, with a dent
.1.
Font – Female
Point – 13, maybe 14
The hand- in this case the entire hand of a previous beach walker.
The ‘I’ – strong, the lone serif figure in the group.
The ‘L’ in caps as well, oversized.
The ‘O’ – dismissive-
She may as well have voiced it into the wind instead of assigning it a place on this fragile slate in the face of the rising tide and a Saturday morning audience of one.
.2.
I approached the heart from the South
From the wrong side, as it turned out.
At a glance it appeared to me like conjoined teardrops
But as I looked it was granted the third dimension.
By tired sunlight, tired even at that time of the day
Tired, but made it here
Courtesy of the momentary lapse of concentration
Of the pure wool, wall to wall sky.
Snuck out to dwell on earth just long enough to reify the heart and the whole monograph.
.3.
The ‘V’ gave it away.
One damp mood swing, down, up, which,
If handed gently to a hundred randomly selected adults,
Would have half of them immediately declare it a ‘U’ outright
And the other half ticking the box marked ‘Not Sure’
And both halves with mica on their fingers
Now children wondering about that glitter- where did I get that?
Oh yes- the sand letter survey.
If you ask me it was not a ‘V’ at all, no point at all.
But reshaped simply by those keeping it cold company that morning,
Guilt by association. No contest now.
Wash the sand from your hands.
By the power of the ‘L’, the ‘O’ and the (lower case) ‘e’ I declare you ‘V’. Arise. The word is ‘Love’.
.4.
Emma had written
‘I Love Dance’
John had written
‘I Love Emma’
The latter declaration half the height of the former.
Dance had written nothing or perhaps everything else on that beach.
by Rob de Kok