The Sandpiper

We scurry like the sandpiper, against the violent tide,
Surely, like the surfer, we enjoy the temporary ride,
To pass our life as a gift on to humankind
In increments of generations,
between the crevices,
who knows what we’ll find.

Put away your books and your writings, they’re not wanted here,
The beach is no place for that scholarly work, within 1 mile near
The gusts act as a protector from all creatures of the page,
A place where both, mind and senses all must engage.
To get lost in thought, or some sequence of which,
Or Look down too long, the tide comes quick!
Shoes soggy, a symptom of a mind distracted,
May lead to legislation, anti-beach laws enacted.

Michael Carney