The Velvet Beach
Let me walk along the velvet beach,
collecting shells upon crushed stretch.
Sun rearing-up a nine year old — teach
her to be happy, care-free, an oceanic sketch.
Eyes wide open, examine the gifts of the sea.
Brunette hair cascading over the shoulders.
Her bare feet stride through shifting sands free.
The past warms me in this present colder.
With curiosity in seaswept zephyr-ease,
each open shell would land a nesting place.
Her caress of lovely fingerlings, bent knees,
behold a prize...the shellac of time and space.
Piece by piece, a plan from Auntie’s coving.
We’d dip into the shapes, shades, and whispering,
pleasure and pleasantries ensconced in loving
of the sea through the inner ear of offerings.
Tunnels of God—great in mercy and grace.
Small but cared for, this daughter and niece,
sister and friend — so much ancestry to trace
in each universe of person, place and the deceased.
5/17/2021
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