Living among the dying

What brings this dark cloud along?
When I am at the beach,
Even in this place of retirement,
Where most inhabitants tread infirmly
Down the sidewalks, walkers in hand
Taking the last slow constitutional
To their own last appointments,
Even there, the coming and going
Of the living is so evident
And the recreation of life
Continues in a constant flow
Past us all, even past the remnants
On the old green benches
Reminiscing about earlier times
Remembering the days when
The blackness of death's night
Seemed so far away,
Days when even the last brief days
Of their living were just an unseen goal
Attached to a retirement account
Safe behind the red bricks of some bank building.

But life still blossoms around us
As the tide's rising flow
Crashes like thunder on the beach
And young girls still giggle
As they walk down the burning sands,
Raising the longing in our still-beating hearts
To remember those days of youth
When we too were walking endlessly down a beach
Rising to the flash of hormones and pherenomes
Like there was no end to this existance
Believing ourselves immortals from before,
Venus rising from the sands
And Triton blowing his horn.

But we soon find differently,
Even in this place where teeming life
Washes up from the ocean depths,
Blowing past our ears and eyes
Like Summer's hurricanes,
That life is so tenuous
Even in our youth
And the passing of the young
Is no different
Than the passing of the old
Despite the belief,
Forever burned in our hearts,
That it should not be so.

It should not be so.