U is for underway
walking the beach of an evening I come upon the treasures left behind....
our house is across the street from Short beach....
i love to watch the families traipse home at the end of a sunny afternoon
they skip across Memorial park and cut through the path in the wood
or roll their beach carts to the gravel parking area
pack up the babies and grab the old ladies....
at twilight i come upon the things their little fingers left behind when they were called homeward
I feel as if I've stumbled across some sacred archeological dig
where childhood was suddenly interrupted
leaving all its tools behind
and time stood still
makeshift boats set sail at even tide
and piles of sandy seashells roll along in the approaching surf