Full Pardon

My son racing up and over the sand dune to Broadkill Beach, DE
(I was right behind him... the sand felt SO lovely...)

Full Pardon

Cumulus clouds are a siren calling "Surrender"
to the strand of sand shining beneath midday sun,

soon the heat beneath my feet, quickly filling in,
erasing all evidence of slipping away.

Blame it on a cotton-blue sky and swaying grass either side;
curling sea-hook grasps my waist, pulls me forward,

hair whips about, blouse fills up as if a mainsail,
arms outstretched, one windward, one leeward,

as I tack left, turn through courting wind.  The path leads me
over arched sand dune; first glimpse of endless beach

and a horizon smudged; multiple brush strokes
of variegated blues and greens upon a canvas.

Blame it on the seagulls, their soaring akin
to blue-grass ballads rife with riffs, grace notes, improvisation;

not so much their squawking, wailing songs
alerting the flock to a possible food source.

Yet I rejoice in their audacity, their surrender to summer.
Blame this escapade on my own rogue self;

for the day won't wait, can't be replaced.  The time is now
and I grasp it with all I've got.  Unapologetic.

by Margaret Bednar, August 8, 2019

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Music with Marian - Juice".  The prompt really screamed for a "sassy" poem, but I used the phrase "Blame it on the..." minus the sass.  I have just returned from a week-long trip to NYC and I am SO glad I had a bit of my ocean for two days - it is a little longer for me to take the coastal route, but so worth it.

I believe Grammar Heads will squirm as "unapologetic" should be "unapologetically" (I think that is the case, but I'm no grammar head)  I just like the way it sounds with no "ly" added so I used my creative license :)

I invite you to listen to me read my poem:

Weko Beach

Weko Beach

Renegade leaf summersaults across boardwalk,
braving, (more like) defying, Lake Michigan's headwind,
seemingly determined to forge a path of its own.

Grandpa's behind me, leaning heavily upon my husband's arm,
determined but cold.  Body, like the leaf, frail, life slowly ebbing,
yet spirit still seeks that which he holds dear.

Grandchildren, evergreen with fiery daring of youth,
plunge toes into frigid water, laugh and scream
when waves splash with abandon,

laughter tumbling leaf-like, hitching a ride upon its back
as it pirouettes out of sight.

Melodious chords mix with surf, songs strummed by The Balladeer,
while my youngest causes my heart to flutter as he defies "Keep Off",
challenges Mother Nature as she licks pier's edge.

Grandpa's cold.  My voice calls out, boomerangs back
without reaching them.  The sand is fine and soft, but
unlike the skipping leaf, I plod towards shore in my shoes,

gather them in, cheeks full of colour and life.
Slowly walk Grandpa to the car.   He's shivering, tired
from sitting bench-side.

Just last year he was walking dune's wooden stairs;
today, empty.  Legs unable to carry his spirit to a favorite lookout.

Memory will have to suffice - and yet even his abundant,
bounty-filled life is becoming misty, crumbling into fine fragments,
compost enriching a path we will tread one day as well.

by Margaret Bednar, October 20, 2018

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Get Listed - October edition"  my list of words:  fiery, plunge, colour, leaf.

Also linked with "Poets United Midweek Motif:  Abundance"