A salty mist falls upon my face As I walk beside the sea My mind set loose to wander While the waves churn endlessly.
The dogs make circles in the sand Running to and fro, they find A feather, a stone, a crab’s empty shell Once part of the ocean, now lie.
A fishing boat off in the distance Under a chalk blue-gray sky Seeking the same hidden treasure As the pelicans passing by.
Families fish along the shore Their children swim and play with glee A turbulent question answered Steadiness is the key.
Lori Cole
This article appears in Port of Entry.