The sun melts in misty haziness.
I flow with its tranquil mood
as the wind from the ocean
sends a layer of
fine sand from the dunes
onto my porch.
The dunes  whisper to me
with the seagrass
bending like barley
in the late summer.
They whisper in
the language of the seabirds
the salted wind.
It speaks to me of freedom
and wild waves..
If such choices are permitted
when my time here is finished
I will return as sand and not dust.
The gulls will see me
as I fly with them.
Silently yet
shouting my freedom.
In the crescendo
of the eternal blowing
sea winds.