The Waves

Strolling along Myrtle Beach Collecting shells in the sand The waves become hypnotic And the mood moves into grand. So many thoughts and memories Come rushing back with the waves Thoughts that flood and can’t be stopped, Some get panned, but some are raves. Again and again They flow in and out Life reliving every decision Life reliving every doubt. Then sanity reasserts For the mind knows what it knows And hypnosis grinds to a halt With the sand between my toes. By E. Marshall Evans