The sandals and the socks against the tide,
The Simmer Dim as hesitating light,
This morning holding hands with late last night.
Life’s first long draft, with later drafts implied:
The beach invites the waves out for a ride.
My sandals and my socks give up the fight,
Succumb to dampness. Grinning with delight
I squelch across The Great Northern Outside.
This slice of year pushes horizons back
Until they touch each other in the sky
In pencil lines across an empty sheet;
Midsummer hands me something that I lack:
As sense of movement, seabirds wheeling by.
The day has turned. Now time to dry my feet.