Run!

The wind picked up.  Far off in the distance, dark, ominous clouds were quickly moving toward us.  We hurried to gather our things off the beach and make it to the car before the first, large splats of rain were felt.  A quick flash outlined us against the black sky…a sharp crack sent us running.

                                        Google Images:  mmorganphotography.us
Flash Fiction 55 Friday hosted by G-Man:  http://g-man-mrknowitall.blogspot.com/

Twilight’s Beach

Warming fire on twilight’s beach adds calm

and informal conversation.

Family gathers closer

as the mauve sky darkens.

Marshmallows on sticks

turn crispy soft.

Day fades fast,

dimly,

dark.

 

A Nonet

Winter Retreat

Winter months find the

beach house deserted.

No sandy trails lead in and out.

No half-filled pails, shovels,

grit-covered flip-flops,

half-dried towels or discarded bathing suits

lie in a hodge-podge pile on

the white-railed wooden porch.

The shutters are pulled tight against

ragged winds and spitting tides.

The laughter of summer’s play

has subsided into the short,

dreary days of winter’s respite.

No longer inviting–it sits in silence.

Winter now enjoys the

vacant beaches, its squalls

blow unhindered across the frothing tides,

in and out to sea.

Shells, sea glass and drift wood

rest upon the shore untouched,

sand layered over them,

perchance to be discovered

someday by deliberate search.

Chilly days grow icy

and bitter, offshore gusts

bluster ashore, collapsing waves

upon the gray, empty beach.

The house and shore celebrate

this time alone, savoring

the quiet time for reflection

and rejuvenation–their winter

solstice spiritual retreat.

My entry for Thursday’s Poet’s Rally:   http://promisingpoetsparkinglot.blogspot.com/2011/09/agreement-for-thursday-poets-rally-week_21.html

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