So much happens by the sea, by the sea.
We are on the promenade hand in hand
Watching two dogs running to the water,
Then shaking themselves dry on the sand
Happily showering their owners and passers.
The North Sea must be cold this afternoon
Yet somehow the beach attracts walkers
Late November, when light fades too soon
So that by half past four the sun sinks
Briefly painting footpaths, a scarlet red band
Into the distance, almost solid enough
It seems to tempt a walk, to leave the land
And return to that medium of birth
Lulled by the sighing waves to sink
To an ending, to be free
No longer any need to think.
The dogs are gone, both back on leads
Their tracks being washed from the sand.
The scarlet path disappeared as both water
And darkness rush toward the cooling land.
It is almost time for us to leave
After this afternoon of sharing
Quietly happy together after
This afternoon of gentle caring.
Water softly murmurs to us
As in many ways we move on
Walking ever closer together
To leave now the light is gone.
Crying gulls still plaintively wheel overhead
As the warm pressure from a hand brings me
Back from such of those morbid thoughts that I.
Seem to feel at times, sunsets by the sea by the sea.
