Snatching some Time on the Beach
Sometimes we leave our computers behind
slip out through the pleasure gardens
past the bandstand and the small fairground
along the promenade
and its notices about what’s not allowed
see the dolls’ house beach-huts
and the brilliant gorse on the cliff side
stroll down onto the beach
where people are packing and leaving
and choose a small patch of washed sand
roll out our towels
kick off our shoes, lie down
turn our faces to the sky
taste salt on our lips
hear the waves break again and again
watch seagulls dip for bread and fish
listen to their cry
catch the last of the sun’s rays
wonder about tides
imagine how many we have left
lie back, rest
let sand trickle through our fingers,
our days like grains of sand
trickling through our fingers.
(Published in South 37 & 43)
© Sarah Barr
2008
Sarah Barr 