Little Beach

Here there are dreams that linger in whirlwinds,
rising up to the heavens,
whisking the sands below, trodden by the feet of innocence.
And whence we return after an age passed,
still we find the child among the sand and sea grass.

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This poem was inspired by my grandparents who lived on the Oregon Coast for more than thirty years in a little town called Gearheart. My siblings and I spent much of our youth there, trifling about the seascape, building castles, and catching clams before the briny breakers.