summer shore
these children
that play in the sand
think this time is forever,
their skin drenched
in the drowsy heat 
of a sun swayed
in the slow rushing roar 
of the surf.
this close to the waves,
the hot sand 
getting cooler and wet
the deeper you dig,
and squinting the distance
the shore's glare's awash
in the sparkling crests,
embraced in the gleam of a sky.
there's still words 
to be written in sand, 
shells and sandcrabs to find,
and no hurry, 
the sun still bides time
as the tide slowly folds
morning's castle-row walls,
flowing home.
Jon Bohrn (1999)

 

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