At Sunset

They listened for the last sounds to fade;

of little ones, plucked from the sand,

carried off kicking and screaming

as they waved new friends goodbye.

They saw the trail of sea shells,

dropped by chubby fingers

and crabs scurrying back under rocks,

grateful for a narrow escape.

At last the beach was theirs

and they giggled and pranced

as capricious summer breezes

whisked the surface of the water

and tickled their feet.

Then the sands began to whisper,

gulls quietening their cries to listen

and a crab crawled out of a seashell

to sniff the salt air.

My children stood motionless,

eyes wide and holding their breaths

and the ocean sighed

as the sun settled down for the night.

© Christine Magee

A Poet's Call

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