The afternoon’s season is meditating sun,
It takes you completely into the rock, and lays you down.
Soon the waves will rise up by the nooks,
suing the sand moss, and disturbing them
as they are devoured by the daily tide, once more.

Once my tourist eyes are no longer needed
by the hovering gulls penetrating the occasional air, and
the dog owners have taken their dogs home,
there will be peace.

But until then, I walk through the dunes with you,
where peace grows in the battering shocks of
the sea, rolling up nearer and nearer; the beach staggers
away in languid smiles, that bow in the focus of our night,
shooting our silhouettes across the shore.