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.
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