The occasional car or bus
Rushes by
But mine is the only heart beating
On this lonely stretch
Towards Punggol Beach.
Out of the forest
The sky spreads out
Like a blank sheet
To rewrite a blemished life story.
The sun is just rising
And the sea pulls out
A distorted imitation.
Longer and more glaring
Than reality.
I’ve heard legends of the sea.
Not monsters or mermaids
But refrigerators washed ashore
Yet all I see, are plastic bags and bottles.
I kick off my sneakers
My feet make transient impressions
On the fickle tide-line.
Towards the sun,
I chase the pigeons and mynahs
Pecking the edge of the water
For food they would not share with humans.
The boat from Ubin
Slices through the watery blanket.
From the jetty afar
The reluctantly early risers
Are suddenly still.
The sun rises further
Into thick clouds.
Its rays weakened
And the sea no longer imitates.
© Chan Joon Yee
New Book!
