Sunday, April 29, 2007
Afternoon at Lake Michigan
Sun, warmth, beach
Blue lake, little boys, white sand
Pail, shovel, watering can, shovel again, where's that football?
Three boys whirling, twirling, I'm a helicopter! ing
Exploring the sandbar island like diminutive pirates in search of crab leg treasure
Unknown small ones wander in, are welcome
Is the big one so tall already in those swim trunks?
And yet more sand
Crunching on the towels, the crevices of my ears, in my drink
The front porch, the long hallway, the bathtub
In their hair, between their toes, gritty on their little legs
Pink noses, rosy cheeks, smelling of sunscreen
Running back before dinner to catch just a few more minutes
Sleeping fast, sleeping sound, the sleep of a beach day