The waves wage war against the shore,
And crabs scuttle clumsily through the surf,
Seeking sustenance, shells, and solitude.
The sand stands strong against the boar-
Charge of the challenging tide’s turbulent
Hour, halting the harassing multi-hued
Water. The war waxes and wanes
But, the harsh beauty of the hastening
Assault arouses no ally’s anger.
Smooth stones drift swiftly through, away,
And toward the terracotta sand space
Of the beach. Barely clad, browned sun-bathers
Face the fury of the full globe
Unprotected by thick white sun-lotion,
Or the outspread shade of beach umbrellas.