I ignore the sign
that says the beach closes
at sunset as I sit on a
rock with a half bottle
of ginger ale topped
with bourbon. Evening
mist cut by passing car
lights gives a lambent
glow to a sea rising and
falling in gentle waves.
Tonight is mine. I am
ignoring all signs: no
alcohol, no dogs, no
fires. My shepherd is
shadowed by a small glow
from embers that were
once flames. It feels
good to push against
what is supposed to be.
The tide will rise to cover
the sins of my presence.