The sparkling dark blue ocean set the scene,
the dock floating upon it held us as we fussed
reeling in our nets filled with cracked mussels.
Attached were green, speckled crabs that wished
they were back on the bottom of the rough ocean, rather
than soon-to-be lobster bait.

Splashing, joking, laughing we work our way
towards the woods by way of the rocks along the ocean.
We get out to the woods, and find our spots on the large
slabs of granite. We braid twigs and pretend we are hunting
like Native Americans.

Not a worry in the world,
other than how many mosquito bites we would have
by the end of the day. Who ever had the most, would
get an extra scoop of the deep purple black raspberry ice cream
after dinner.

After dinner, when the golden sun had set
we would splash the ocean in search
of the silvery plankton that reacted quickly
And later, fall asleep
to the crackle of the fire