The sea at low tide is collecting itself.
We head down from the dunes
to walk the hard sand troweled smooth
by the surf, the beach empty
this September afternoon, both of us
replaying memories of our boys
exultantly owning this patch of ocean.
A sand ridge the sea will soon wreck
is as good a spot as any for us to sit awhile,
facing the blue on blue, as chutes
of braided water straggle down to meet the tide.
Far out and just above the surface,
the wings of southbound sea ducks
seem to tug the waves like the oars
of ancient ships. Every breaker is a spoiler
but we keep watching …
Something to Consider
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