A Summer's Edge
© 2011 (Jim Sularz)
On blue ocean’s tide, on midsummer’s ides,
cold steely eyes stirred the deep.
Memories lingered and spied, starred sand dollars died,
where anemone and jellyfish sleep.
Otters bobbed with the waves, some laid back and sun bathed,
in a lazy late morning whim.
Green leaves of a tree, draped in long branched symmetry,
nestled chickadees from a seaside wind.
Dried flowers sighed low, a drop of rain, a rainbow,
soft petals and white feathered clouds.
Caught flying bugs bereft, roared the West winds spent,
ensnarled in a widow’s shroud.
Soaring black-tipped birds, flew small circles as they turned,
sandcastles towered below a butterfly’s grove.
Windowed, crumbled then denied, sunset drenched with the tide,
slowly languished near a lover’s cove.
A steam roller fog, cooled, white blanketed along,
washed ashore like a ghost shipwreck.
Timeworn hands of a man, carved impressions in sand,
and held fast to last summer’s edge.
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