When we first explored this beach together,
Running, dodging, laughing,
Playing the games that yearlings play
When the fresh breezes of springtime breathe life into their souls.
I remember as though it was yesterday.
Some time later,
We walked together here, my arm about her tightly,
As though the dream would escape
If I didn’t hold her closely.
There were no games now, our pace was slow and measured,
Every step a request for time to stand still.
Few words were spoken, but no words were needed.
We spoke with our fingertips,
Smiled with our eyes,
Whispered with our breathing,
And savored the moment,
Knowing we would remember this for the rest of our lives
The wind brushed her long, fragrant hair against my cheek,
Soft, drifting in the gentle breeze like the smoke of a candle.
Her breathing was hushed music and the sea sang with her,
Every wave a chorus.
A command performance by the setting sun for a preoccupied audience.
Years have passed, and I walk this beach alone,
Hearing the surf whisper her name.
Admiring a pair of gulls in the smooth ballet of flight,
Reminded, as I watch, of how it was between us.
I stare into the tide pools and her sad, lovely eyes look back,
I close my eyes tightly and see her face,
Framed by the wind-blown veil of her hair.
In the soft breeze, I feel the gentle touch of her fingers
Softly gliding over my face like a silken flame.
The salt spray stings my eyes,
And I am embarrassed at tears I cannot suppress.
A voice within me cries out on this now empy beach,
And I want to hold her, to thank her,
For the sweet gifts of time and tenderness she shared with me,
For moments and memories I will treasure for more than a lifetime.
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