Lytle Beach

 

Afternoon sun,

cutting sharp shadows on

clamshell, white

pebble, gray

beach glass, green

(such familiar things),

warms each March beachgoer,

including the heartless

seagulls dropping

helpless mussels

from the sky

to open them.

Down across the sand

an unlanguaged man –

vocal tic, facial twitch –

stands in the mudflats

going “hum hum hum”

(ferry wake rolls in

thrum thrum thrum),

picks up stones and tosses them in.

 

Such pleasure in the throwing motion!

Such pleasure in the splashing sound!

Such pleasure in knowing the stones went down!

 

The tide is out,

mudflat wilderness wide,

revealing a brand new beach,

never before seen.

Grace Romjue is a woman. She likes her husband, her two daughters, and herself, which she believes shouldn’t be so rare or hard to admit. Among her joys are volunteering in a children’s library, sailing with her family, and seeking the presence of God. She and her husband are professional musicians, and also grateful stewards of First Aid Arts, providing brave souls with embodied, expressive tools to rebuild resiliency after trauma. For the curious, more on that at firstaidarts.org.

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