Old pilings sunk half in the water
sagging wood decayed from the sun
soft lapping of water as tide creeps in
transforming the beach, day and sun

beach all bumpy, lumps of delight
blowing sand, what a sight
hot waves of granules seek the light
bleached, driftwood, creating dreams

settling mist over the whole scene
drags the day, nearer night
sends the birds into their last flight
soothes the spirit, renews the fight!

5/13/94