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The tide is going out and where waves turn

Small patches of damp sand appear

Dark against the brilliance of the foam

Which idles on towards the rotting pier.

The wind has dropped and some folk even risk

T-shirt and shorts to jog along the prom,

While I lean here, watching the time run by

Unconcerned at what's about to come,

Accepting that the beauty of this day

Suffices - no - is more than I could ask

And far more than I could dare demand

Of life, which wraps its warmth around my hand,

And leads me on towards a greater task

Which lies in wait, somewhere along the way.

Brian Hick March 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 14.3.24