It was my first nighttime beach trip.

Monday night, ten-thirty PM:
rather than reading
in my pajamas,
I was walking
along the shore.

The cool, damp sand
beneath my bare feet
sharply contrasted the
unbearable heat of
the same ground
just hours earlier.

A deep black
consumed the beach--
except for the
stars' shimmering light.

They seemed to cover
every square inch
of the dark sky--
like a string of
little white lights
hanging on the limbs
of a Christmas tree.

It was magnificent--
a work of art,
something out of a museum--
I'd never seen
anything like it.

My brother and our friend
were watching the tide
gently roll in;
their attention was focused
downward, but mine
was always on the stars--

I saw more than stars;
I saw the eyes of
my four angels
shining down on me,
their twinkle
letting me know
they've been watching over me
all along.

The wind started
to pick up steadily,
I didn't have a jacket,
but I was warm.

I was home.