Ebb-Tide Dreaming.

The shore-line calls tonight, and I oblige. Shoes in hand, I stride drained sands And follow ebbing tide. Stray wisps of cloud paint dusk in sooty Streaks, as winged flurries bring home Solo birds here to roost. Small waves break, ripple gently then enfold My sandy feet in foam, puddles Shine wet, like molten gold. Abandoned shells lie dry in endless rows, Oiled seaweed slips aside, as Crabs rush, and brush my toes. Night sky darkens, stillness fills the quiet air, I know somewhere he gazes At the same star, sharing. Timeless ebb and flow allows for dreaming. I walk contented home, sure This place gives life meaning.