Shimmering water beckoned
As we drove to a remote corner by the dunes. Pitching our tent upon sand of silken grains That flowed smoothly when we dipped in its depths. Each morning we’d burst from the tent As the sun balanced haphazardly on the horizon. Its rays spearing the shadowy dunes Then mother would call us for breakfast. By day we swam in water that sparkled Oblivious to clouds gathering in distant corners. Father would keep watch for the midday tide Mother would open the picnic hamper. Father set aside his watch as the days swung by In rhythm with the ever changing shadows. When the sun beamed low upon a nearby tree Mother would call us for tea. By night we played snap or fish Huddled together in the flickering glow. And when our shadows fell languidly in ribbons Father would signal goodnight. |