The geese have long since
v'd their way south,
bare feet have been replaced with boots,
yet I still
sink footprints into chilled sand,
tide fills them up,
makes them disappear;
a wonder of which I never tire.
My heart pounds yet isn't heard
above roaring surf,
an exhilaration that is commonplace,
at least for me.
I pity the ones who never know
the wonder of a flock of seagulls
lifting in unison, filling horizon with swoops
and angled wings, riding ocean's breeze
beneath clouds that tell me
it's time to settle inside, before a warm fire,
before the snow descends,
book in hand, cat on lap,
all the while thanking God
this is my ordinary.
by Margaret Bednar, November 28, 2018
This is for "dVerse Poetics - Magic of Ordinary Things" I was too late in linking with this to post my poem but others have nice poems at the link for this challenge.