Water's edge.......

              Standing on the waters edge,
                    try to think, try to see.
          Know where I have been, where I am,
              but what is yet to become of me?

                  Movement of the ocean tide,
                 sand encroaching on my feet.
               Am I sinking into mother earth,
                or is this nature's way to greet.

             The smell of salt permeates the air,
         seagulls riding air currents with grace.
       Pelicans climb high, wings in, dive down,
       take aim on their prey, slow, keeping pace.

                   In the distance I can hear,
            the lonely sound of a fog horn's call,
        Tide coming in, ripples kissing the beach,
                 it looks so big, I feel so small.

            One lone light, a lighthouse beacon,
             makes its rounds from left to right.
       All is still, mysteriously quiet, not a sound,
            where did the sea life go this night.

             Walking so gracefully on the sand,
         hermit crabs making their nightly debut.
            Standing in rows, waiting for orders,
                 marching in lines two by two.

                  Standing on the waters edge,
                       try to think, try to see.
           Know where I have been, where I am,
                but what is yet to become of me?

 

 

Written by:
Karen Palumbo
Photograph by:
Robert Palumbo
3/10/2007
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