Revision 1...This is a cross between FV and Prose...I have written other Photographs for other Seasons, ..It is too short for a short story, and is kind of like
an unrhymed vignette...I guess that is what you could call it..
I walk to the beach at 6 a.m.
while others are still sleeping.
Coffee in hand I stand on a dune
and see nothing but hungry gulls
cawing to one another as
they dive for fish as foaming
surf surges toward shore.
The sand feels cool and silky under
my feet as I walk to waters edge.
I let waves lick my toes, stand
for a moment, then begin my walk
along the tidal wash.
The beach is strewn with pretty shells,
I place some in the plastic bag I'd
tucked in my jeans. My grandchildren
will enjoy adding them to their collection.
I'm joined by a family walking
their lab. How he loves chasing
the ball they throw for him. His
powerful legs move like pistons
as he prances to his master
with it in his mouth.
I climb the dune and see a
restaurant facing the beach.
The aroma of freshly baked
cinnamon buns fills the air,
and I decide to breakfast there.
Other families begin arriving;
another day at the beach
has begun, but they won't know
the peace they missed at 6a.m.
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Original
I walk to the beach at 6 a.m
while others are still sleeping.
Coffee in hand I stand on a dune
leading to the beach. I see
no one but hungry gulls cawing
to one another as they
dive for fish over the foaming
surf surging toward the shore.
The sand feels cool and silky under
my feet as I walk to waters
edge. I let waves lick my toes,
stand for a moment, then begin
my walk along the tidal wash.
The beach is strewn with pretty shells
and some are placed into the plastic
bag I'd tucked into my jeans
The grandchildren will enjoy adding
them to their collection when
I take them home when summers done
I am joined by a family walking their lab.
How he loves chasing sticks
they throw for him. His powerful
legs move like pistons as he
finds them and prances back
to his master with them in his mouth.
I climb the dune and hungry, walk
to a nearby restaurant facing the beach.
The aroma of freshly baked cinnamon
buns fills the air and I
decide to breakfast there. Other
families begin arriving; another
day at the beach has begun,
but they won't know the peace
they missed at 6 a.m.
Judith Anne Labriola