Poetry/ Last Look Back

     He thought for a moment. How long have I been here? As the last rays of the failing Carolina sun warmed the back of his neck and cast long shadows that streaked across the sand dunes in a race toward the darkening waters of the Atlantic,it seemed that all time had stopped
     He looked on as two children played in a tidal pool. Their bleached white hair once short in the spring now caressed shoulders tanned nut brown by the long days of a seemingly endless beach vacation. From afar a mothers voice says its time to go. But its only her promise of a return one day that finally tears them away from their kingdom of sandcastles and seashells.They were now children of the beach for evermore and they left  behind not only their fortress in the sand, but also a small piece of themselves and their childhood for mother nature to reclaim on the next high tide. Blending their souls with all those who have come before into the  tide line of life that stretched from here to eternity.
     He missed the beach umbrellas that had once lined the shore like so many colorful Christmas ornaments stretching as far as the eye could see. Havens for families that had used them to escape the relentless rays of sun, life itself seemed to began and end in their embrace Now cleaned and packed away they left no trace of the world as it had been. Only a landscape of ghosts and memories drifted in the September air,as the last hallow sounds of laughter faded on the cooling breeze, leaving only the  rhythmic tide to fill the void.
      He felt the presence of his father and grandfather move beside him and as they all stood looking out toward the horizon,the days last light had left the world of Summer behind in blends of orange and scarlet and colors not yet named by man. Soon a crescent moon would ascend to crown the Lowcountry sky. A God sent tierra brought down by angels and left as a gift for all  of us blessed to call this land our own. It was then he knew. How long had he been there,,,,,forever.
   
    From the North  the wind began to whisper. making the salty sand stir, gently at first it spoke the words that no one wants to hear,,,,,Summer is over.

                R. Sweat