Last Day at the Beach

February 3, 2010
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Last day at the beach
The wind is warm, painted with the soft hues of dusk
All is open and cool and free
Wet sand beneath my feet, cool and gritty between my curled toes
A brown beach, speckled with white and black, stretches before me
Last day at the beach
The seagulls wheel and cry overhead—
Last day, last day, last day
Salt air, clean and alive,
Like airy ocean, a sea you can breathe
The sun is setting now, painting the sky soft red and orange and mirrored in the waves
Last day at the beach
The breakers wash against the sand
Shh-shh, shh, shh-shh, shh-shh
The oceanic lullaby
The air is warm, the sea is cool—a place of harmony
The sand is piled here and there, resting after a day of castles and moats
While the tide curves gently in, washing the beach smooth again
A few lonely crabs scuttle here and there, trying to escape the ocean’s advance
The wind stirs again, now cool and heavy with night scent, carrying the sound of crickets to me
Crickets and the mourning dove’s cry
Last day at the beach
Last day at the beach

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