Beach Walk

Beach foam landscape nature


Leave the car at the Old Coast Guard Station parking lot, leave

traffic noises, the low bustle of tourists through pier village shops,

for the dirt path between cedars.  Clear shrieks of gulls herald

this partition.  Sun on white sand heats humid air.  A pelican floats.


Two teenage girls walk a slow drag of bare feet, searching for their

lives in their phones, like I walk down to the water line, look down

for mother of pearl insides of quahogs, porcelain polish of moon

snail shells and cowries.  I look up to watch the run and pause


Of foraging terns from moving aprons of water in the swash

as windblown clouds chiaroscuro sunlight, waving over water

like a magician’s handkerchief.  I breathe deep salt air,

palm tiny shell treasures.


Poem by Steven Croft

Steven Croft live on a barrier island off the coast of Georgia on a property lush with vegetation. His work has appeared in San Pedro River Review, Red Eft Review, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, Willawaw Journal, Synchronized Chaos, The New Verse News, Gyroscope Review, and other places.