At the end of the summer.
The tourists with their screaming kids
And their beach chairs and umbrellas are gone.
So are the ice cream carts and the taxis patrolling the shore.
It's just us now and the seagulls
Caw-caw-caw'ing to each other
Saying dinner's ready come and get it.
The wind blows harder now.
The waves smack the shore like a violent lover.
No need to hold back anymore.
Nature has reclaimed its own.
And you in the distance
Chasing a Frisbee by the water
And me, here on a sandy towel,
Trying to scribble one last poem before we go.
Sept. 2, 2016