My step urged me
Towards the edge of the shoreline
Ships in the distance
Lazily waiting their turn
To enter the dock
Pieces of timber
And shreds of seaweed
Litter the flat damp sand
My eyes look up then run horizontally
Across the vast expanse of aqueous landscape
Buoys bobbing jubilantly in the melodious waves
Their brilliant orangeness
Urgently pointing out your peril
A magnificently white sailed trimaran
Appeared from the encasing sea fret
Its path obstructed by nothing
But the salty air
Conjuring thoughts of leather skinned old fishermen
Back from a week's trip in the murky seas
Their vessel having been pummelled by walls of water
Their cargo bountiful
Dusk beckons and
I retrace my earlier footprints
Following a path of tiny iridescent seashells
Shining my way home
The tide quickly swells
Obliterating all trace that I had been there