Drifting On A Tide

I walk along the rocks,

as the evening tide comes in.

The rocks fight the pounding of the waves,

splashing angrily with the wind.

The seagulls, flying overhead,

fly nearer to the tables,

not twenty feet from where I stand.

I call to mind sitting here

upon these rocks with you,

leaning back and laughing,

doughboy and soda in each hand.

I took a bite of the sugary treat,

it was so sweet.

The years have drifted

away, like this tide

that will move on, move out.

The rocks are fading slowly,

and soon will disappear,

as will our memories of times

spent among them

on a cool summer night

like this.