The Beach Chair

I watch the dimness dissipate,

as the sun cracks the sky at dawn.

Like a runny yolk, the light slides into every nook of darkness

till I am surrounded by a pink and inky blue horizon.

From my place on the sand, I start to feel the warmth,

a steady wave of it beginning to wash in with the sea.

It heats every pebble of sand, bleaches every surface of shell,

and that's when I start to see familiar faces.

Beach goers emerge over the dunes, one by one,

mine went out for a walk shortly after setting me up.

Mine are older now, and they always love the sunrise,

they never arrive too late to watch the sun come up.

These others are younger, families mostly,

I see children racing each other to the shore.

Babies coo from baskets, couples smile gingerly,

and dogs dig and play about, some sniffing me as they pass by.

It's midday now, the hottest point,

my people return to rest for awhile.

They lay out a blanket beside me, stand up an umbrella,

so that we all might share in the shade.

They open their books, but I continue my watching,

I am endlessly entertained by the activity here.

It's a quiet thrill, but I feel so contented,

to simply observe each small wonder before me.

A young boy has found a crab in the sand,

to him, he has found some buried treasure.

His baby sister looks on, squealing with joy,

as he places the small creature in a bucket of sandy water.

There's a group of swimmers in the surf, just out of reach

of the waves that would push them into shore.

A father carries his daughter on his shoulders,

as she does not like it when the seaweed touches her feet.

A grandfather laughs a hearty laugh down the beach aways,

two of his grandsons have just caught a fish, a striped bass.

Others gather round the fishermen, taking pictures,

congratulating the trio on a job well done.

Closer to me, a mother reprimands her daughter,

as she will not sit still while her mother puts sunscreen on her.

The little girl is impatient, rightly so,

the day so young seems to be fading already.

It's usually at this point, many start to leave,

parents pack up picnics, children clean up their sand toys.

My people close their books, and stand once more,

they start their walk down the beach to watch the sunset.

This is my favorite time of day, albeit the saddest,

it's surreal to watch the sun disappear.

But when that sun sets, it leaves behind a promise:

the next day will shine bright so the memories made can shine brighter.

Some lovers stick around, a twinkle in their eyes,

their hearts full as they hold each other in the bronze glow of sunset.

Gulls fly overhead, their chatter quiet,

and the sandpipers dodge the black water of the tide.

My people are heading back to me now, and just in time,

I can see the crescent of light miles out, starting to sink beneath the waves.

Till tomorrow old friend, while I'm folded up for the night,

I'll return to my post in the morning, same as always.