The palm trees in the distance line the shore.
Each night small boats are moored among the trees.
I’ve seen the boys come in and tie the boats,
their fishing done offshore beyond the keys.

The tide rolls in at four o’clock and leaves
the shallow pools that dot the sandy beach.
The tiny creatures that were brought ashore
are quickly digging down and out of reach.

The seagulls flapping overhead give up
on any easy, tasty treat. They fly
and circle as they dive into the sea,
then catch their evening meal as it swims by.

The kids collect their buckets filled with shells,
as surfers paddle out for one more ride.
The lifeguards climb down from their big, tall chairs,
and castles are swept out by evening tide.

Reflections of the sunset fill the sky
with pink and gold and red, ablaze once more.
The evening breeze now gently gives its sigh--
another day is done along the shore.

 Copyright by Anita Lewis Longino