Bethany Beach

Straying from the theme in a way, but then, how do any of us get to where we are?

Bethany Beach

Dawn

"I have come to a realization." she declares.
Walking toward the beach
with the moon riding her shoulder.

"I can't be helpful anymore,
really,
If I just take care of myself,
Dress myself and such,
and am not
a pain in the ass,
that's the best I can do."

Her daughters,
knowing her for lifetimes,
envision a girl child
unhesitating,
picking out purple pants,
a beloved red dress,
orange boots,

And follow their mother
to the beach,
laughing
into the sunrise.

Noon

In the full sun of summer,
on the beach,
she tugs at our hands.
pulling us into the surf,
with the persistence,
shared by children
and octogenarians

Her strength comes from a tension,
tugging as she is tugged,
torn
between the joy of the surf,
and the sorrow
of being the last of her generation on shore.
Her sister and brother,
husband and friends
gone,
riding that bright, inevitable tide.

Then, the big wave hits the line
of children and grandchildren,
She holds fast to their hands,
the center of the line
as the spray leaps,
and undertow tugs the sand from beneath our feet.
She is left,
Wet to her hips,
laughing,
feet firmly planted on the shore.
holding our hands.