the wavelets,
nibble
at our toes.
as my boy
and i comb
the tideline,
for tiny treasures.
curls blowing,
ever which way
in the salt
tanged breeze.
little hand holds
red bucket,
the
clicksnickclack
of shells
already collected
is a comforting sound.
as we
meander along,
soon we
will turn
and
wander homeward
to warmth
leaving the sealife
to their own
care.....until,
the next time.