By the water I’ve seen
tides coming and going.
Rowboats rock, a seagull cries,
lovers wave, and piers rise
and fall to the moons whim.
Trains of young ducks swim
under the flying Vs
of Canadian Geese
coursing south in grey skies.

I recall foggy days:
ferries floating in from haze,
foghorns warn and buoys ring,
waves upon the shore sing
lullabies to beach dogs
who drag small driftwood logs
from one stranger to another.

On the few warmer days
a single beach bum lays
while a dog wags his tail.
Far off, a lonely sail
cuts through the horizon,
silhouette against the sun.