Sugar sand for twenty miles
and we are alone
As the tide recedes
to reveal a brand new world
of broken shells and polished glass.
and trash from the sea.
Little foot prints
fill with foam, dwarfed
by the track of a walking crane
I stand in the surf
Holding back
the Gulf of Mexico
to shield you from
sharks and stingrays.
But today the only danger
is a napping crab
in the high tide debris
who wakes to your
stooping curiosity
to do his castanet dance
to a shrieking song
that charms the gulls,
leaving crab tracks
back to the Gulf
and toe prints
halfway to the dunes.