The smell was in the air tonight,
drifting in on an eastern wind
recalling those summers at the Cape.
We’d walk along the shore, collecting
shells and bits of colored glass,
watching the sun wrap itself in threads
of peach and pink and purple and gray
before slipping slowly past the horizon.
A chorus of crickets would be heard,
mixed with raucous laughter that trickled
down from the road and tickled our ears
as cars cruised by, windows open,
searching for relief in the cool night air.
Up the lane colorful lights beckoned to the line
forming outside the ice cream shack,
frosty reprieve on a warm summer's eve.
One of the great unproven laws of physics is
that the closer you get to the beach,
the longer the days seem to stretch.
We’d finally crawl off to bed, our
sunburnt bodies finding cool respite
between soft cotton sheets.
If we listen carefully, we can hear the sound
of the waves kissing the shore; as the
warm breeze rustling through the trees
calls us back to the sea once more.
© Ginny Brannan 2018
|Cape Cod near Harwichport, MA 2016|
Bottom Image by author, taken on Cape Cod.