Sunday

She sat, wearing her freckles and hat.

On the sand, the kiss of salt her friend.

That lazy Sunday, born springtime sun.

The start. A beginning, and an end.

 

In shorts, the first, her pale legs,

Wore goose bumps beneath the clouds.

But the rays, they hugged her, and she smiled

For the first time since the leaves fell.

 

She listened to the footprints,

And the tide of chattered teeth.

Beside the waves, she hummed along,

With books in hand, at peace.

 

Her daze of sea and salt and sand,

Her dimpled dreaming face,

Her messy hair, her hazel eyes,

Her throne of shells, her happy place.

 

At last her crown from wool to straw,

She saw again with child’s eyes.

Endless dreaming at the beach.

A pause in time, to breathe in space.

 

And when the day began to shy,

She whispered softly to the sky,

Rest easy gentle, loving sun.

I’ll see you soon, for spring’s begun.

photo 2-13

Note: I wrote this while sitting at Kohimarama Beach on Sunday 7th September, 2014 – my first beach day in Auckland since the summer of 2011/2012.  I’m calling it the first day of spring because that’s how it felt; the air was different and something had shifted in me as it always does when the season’s change. And what better way to spend this beautiful Sunday than by the ocean in the company of a book (The Secret History by Donna Tartt), a magazine (Dumbo Feather), my notebook, and a pencil.

My happy place.

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