As the rough shard stones mingle pebbling in
with the smooth soft beach, we walk hand in hand.
There is hard enough rock beneath some of this path
to stub a toe or two, but the risk is to laugh -
there is buried glass, sometimes, occasionally.
Because some cruel son of a bitch couldn't see
what duty of his it was to leave things clear,
so that others could walk without care or fear.
Well to some people, all that ever matters is theirs.
Aware of these fools, we will take our share
of caution stepping light, in our own bare feet
over this broad clean brown tide-wet strip.
Our feet have grown strong over walks like this,
and I have your arm. Darling, you won't trip.
You are more than strong enough to catch me as well
- and this life is so good, so sweet, so fine!
Like it never was before: because you are mine.
You're the brightest thing to see in this salt sunshine,
and I wish that every moment could be easy like this.
But if I had to choose between "easy" and bliss -
I'd leave things as they are. As they're going, as is,
and I'd save that wish.