My shoes were filled with sand ...

The oak tree cast its shadow upon the sand - 

Each shadow leaf was like a dark coin underfoot - 

White yachts were moored offshore -

Soon it would be low tide -  

Oyster catchers flew low and fast above the water - 

 

We stood in the shade of the tree, under the cloudless sky - 

I remembered the blue zig zags of the dragonflies, the deep pool amongst the heather - 

I tipped my torn straw hat further down my forehead - 

My shoes were filled with sand - 

16.00

Tuesday 13 June 2017

Shipstal Point

Arne

Dorset