Boardwalk beach goers
Strolled in ball caps
And in wide-brimmed hats
And in flip flops
And in cover-ups casually tied over low-slung bikinis
Lining the railing of the weathered pier
Eyes half closed, hands folded, heads atilt
Shoulders squared to a fading sun
A familiar form among the silhouettes
Twenty years hence
A cascade of raven hair
A billowing summer dress
My single breath
Then across rutted planks
To finally slake the thirst for another and
Be free of the malfeased heart
The lilt of perfume
Light, breathless, familiar
Transported back through time
To burn white hot again
Only to blanch at the precipice
Before the gray water
Silent

When one writes ten word stories,
One must think fast.

Some people have kindness in everything they do,
a helping hand that listens well
then reacts with easy care,
spreading love
everywhere.
They never cease to offer a warm hug
and try to make things better with their wondrous galloping strive,
distances reduced in seconds;
some people have sunshine in all they do,
some people Mum,
just like you.