It’s been a long car ride down to this busy cove

Where retirees gather to golf the remainder of their lives

And invite their children and grandchildren to run about their villas

Last time I was here, I was grieving a loved one

Who departed the day I arrived

I didn’t do much the last time

But this isn’t a sad poem

The ocean has never been unkind to me

Though I didn’t fully accept her most of my life

I’ll lay on the sand and let it stick to me

While she creeps up curiously to the tips of my feet

Singing me a lullaby to block out the sounds of passers by