Summer Song

　
Out here on the rocks, indented with fossils, are scratched initials and memories
Echoes of voices past, linger and toss, then sit in the stone shadows
Reminding me of brown, sturdy, sandy feet, straw hats, and strong bones
They stay my heart with their summer song, playing its magic in the long afternoon.

Out here on the rocks, the outermost shouts of innocence reverberate
Running and tiny toes clamp themselves beside me in ghostly print
An elder’s guiding hand clasps the little one, dear, beside the slower soul
In my mind’s eye, I see the clear gaze of the child, trained on the horizon
Watching the sun blaze its way into regretful descent, leaving behind one more day.

Out here on the rocks, the smashing water wings the air with puffs of soft wind
Treading time with the higher tendrils of breeze floating against my arms
Higher still, the upper air currents carry the gulls along happy trails
They scream their joy, call out their life, their sturdy wings sky-scraping the evening.

Out here on the rocks I watch the golden pathway paved upon pewter liquid
Shimmering in bronze towards the sun-god of the sky, now cast in blue shadow
Against the robin’s egg hue just above the horizon, its centre burning bullion.

Out here on the rocks, strands of peaceful thought drift like sand in the air
Caressing my temples with cotton-gloved fingers, stroking my mind in languid rhythm.

Out here on the rocks, I have come to sit alone, to drink in one more September night
Before air chills cold, rocks sleep under ice, and frost creeps over the last memories.

cailin raine