Still Hear The Waves (rev)

It was a brave day under an endlessly
clear sky that extended from forever in
our valley to the unfathomably distant
sea. It was a day to remember amongst
days of classical splendour, from an
unoccupied beach and the virgin sand crisp
and crumbling under flying feet, to the
tumbling vastness of twinkling ocean
lying invitingly within our reach.

We shrilled in the whip of the wind that
blew into the bay, growled with the clap
and crash of waves always in motion, waded
and splashed in an unnamed ocean, fell in
pools filled with wallowing froth, coughed
and laughed in wavelets and troughs shouting
defiance ‘til stopped by cold.

And when the sand chafed beneath our trunks
and the salt sea dried to crystals of coarse rime
on our reddened skin we still ran. Do you
remember it then, do you remember how that
day would never end? Though there are years
between now and then I can still see the sand
and the twinkling sea in the nameless bay, 
 
still hear the waves.
© 2005, I.D. Carswell