Beach Souvenirs
by Sam Hendrian
A flask of vodka and a Starbucks cup
Side by side in an illicit affair
On the edge of a silent shore
Where the waves tap the shoulder of sand.
Intertwining memories
Already forgotten
Amidst Monday arguments
And Friday souvenirs.
The garbage man sighs as he bends down
To pick up the litter of fleeting friendships,
The scraps of a love that’s gone
But was nice while it lasted.
Then he turns to the tranquil sea beyond,
The last sign of God’s alleged mercy
And wonders if sand can turn to glass,
Might the opposite be possible?
Sam Hendrian is a lifelong storyteller striving to foster empathy and compassion through art, particularly in the forms of film and poetry. Originally from the Chicago suburbs, he now resides in Los Angeles, where he primarily works as an independent filmmaker and has just completed his first feature film Terrificman, a deeply personal ode to the power of human kindness. You can find his experimental short films on YouTube at @samhendrian8658 and his poems on Instagram at @samhendrian143.