Where will we walk / When the beach has gone / Pushed back into / some pickle balled court / or swimming pool / Undermined it slides / into the next wave break.

He stepped into / big shoes / and filled them well / Sean walked in them / until they fit / his own feet.

Sand
Clean white sand
warm in summer
rolling wet
hot bodies
fresh from swimming
in the Sound

It is a good year for Mayflowers They are sprawling on the hill leading to the chicken coop and the shop

He grips the podium like the wooden wheel of a loaded cargo schooner comfortable yet firm as he steers us through another night

I remember Coo from boyhood summers with his large extended Italian family renting down the street from us