Running in the Beach House

Walking through the beach grass. 

Sand between my toes.

Distant waves crashing. 

It's time to go home. 

 

Running in the beach house. 

Tracking wet footprints. 

Change clothes in a hurry.

Up the stairs full sprint. 

 

Later after dinner. 

Kids have to take out the trash. 

Must've weighed a hundred pounds.

Parents twice my size. 

Doesn't seem fair. 

 

Night winding down.

A spades match has begun.

Step onto the porch. 

Dad’s smoking. 

Then I notice the stars. 

 

Pointing at the sky.

Dad is that the Milky Way? How far away is it?

He always had an answer.

My father who had immensurable wisdom. 

Tide is coming in.

Waves crash against the rocks. 

With a gentle summer breeze. 

It would turn out to be my fondest memory.