on the Beach
spring on the empty beach,
gulls soar on a still-chilly breeze,
the slate sky slides and blends
with the empty endless lake.
waves are big enough to swoosh
as they end their journey with the wind
and the seamless sand is pitted
with last year's plodding footprints.
too warm for heavy coats, too cool
for bare-arm shirts. It's in-between time,
sweaters and desultory conversation
seem to match the uncertain season.
furtive clouds float west
on an invisible current of air, capture
the sun then release it just in time
for a few more encouraging words.
soft sand yields to our pressing feet
but walking is a chore and the cool wind
carries our words towards the green land
where we gather them from the grass.
Clement - June 11, 2007