On the Edge of North Hampton Cove
by Bob Moore
 
The sand is bathed by the ocean,
warmed by the sun.
 
Pebbles rise, resettle, shift with a wave,
draw back with an undertow.
 
The soles of my feet sink down,
soft in the slurry of water and stones.
 
A family of ocean birds
take turns ducking their heads,
sampling saltwater fish.
 
On shore, songbirds sing,
busy attracting a mate,
preparing a nest.
 
White clouds stretch across the sky
like tired angels.
 
The breeze is light.
 
It works to move the water,
bends the seedheads of grasses,
 
cools the faces of walkers and runners,
lifts the leaves of trees,
 
helps the living to seed themselves.
 

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