by Abigael25 Aug 2019
We hitched-up knitted swimsuits that sagged
and stretched if wet. At low tide, we searched
for shells in shades of ivory yellow and pink,
used scoop-nets to fish for tiddler's, shrimps
and small crabs exposed between boulders.
When the sun beat down we climbed rocks
to find the deep pool and learned to swim
half a dozen strokes, found sea anemones
on the rocks. Bronzed youths scaled the cliffs,
dived into the gulley to impress the girls,
a strong tide whooshed in and out of the rocks.
One who impressed me most came alone -
left his artificial limbs on the sand, propelled
himself on both hands to the sea; a strong
swimmer in rough weather or undertow.
A sudden shower found us sheltered
in a small cave as tourists fled the beach.
Minutes later, in bright sunshine
we carved channels in the sand to divert
a stream that flowed through the valley
to the sea, filling the moats around dream
castles, that stood tall until the next tide.