The lady island dozes off the coast
and many dogs race ahead of themselves.
Several people amble, but each is alone,
acting out their different lifetimes.
Old women air undergarments
in a breeze still suffering a hint of ice
and a frantic terrier’s choked,
yippy bark through a frisbee
tickles the wave-hushed air.
Something dark lies in the broken surf,
bag or body, I search and find black oak,
but a stretching distribution of waves
rolls me back to shore again.
Gull shadows flit a vertiginous spin
across the pointed cliff face
and the ghost of a castle teeters
on the other side, bearing down on
a tidal stone, ready to fall
like an exhausted empire.
Sonja Broderick
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beach-walk/
