Weathered,
edges softened,
floors worn smooth inside,
soft, sugar-white sand outside,
all perfectly imperfect.
Baskets
and bowls
hold seaglass
shells and stones,
bounty from barefoot beach walks.
Waves
wash ashore,
gulls caw, float
pale-grey and white in silhouette,
against the cerulean sky.
Breezes,
fill white sails,
float the spicy-sweet scent
of magenta beach roses
into cool shadowed rooms.
Grasses,
sea oats and spartina
bleach in the sun,
flowers bloom
in bright summer colors.
Slowly,
time passes,
the dog asleep on the porch,
with me beside her,
one hand stroking her soft coat.
Together,
we share this moment
quietly, in a shack on the beach,
where horizon meets sea and sea meets shore,
and living ebbs and flows with the tides.
