Your face is etched in the stars that dot a sky about to lose its black
Mirrored as a reflection on a luminous sheet of sea at low tide
The image skittered like sand pipers dissolving as the first rays
Of an impatient sun scattered light on the slate gray sand
A harsh westerly blew to shore and slapped my face
Assailed my nose with the briny redolence of shoreline waste
From afar clam diggers sat on empty pails digging and
Poking with bamboo spatulas the water logged sand
I heard your voice mingle with the twittering of the shore birds
As they skipped and darted leaving their V marks on the glistening sand
I thought of my easy chair, my garden, I thought of your smile...of home
A harsh westerly slapped my face, a briny redolence assailed my nose.
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