I am often inspired to write poetry at the beach. Usually this is done in my head, words tumbling as I sit and look out at the water. This afternoon was no different, ideas of contentment and small moments of peace, and belonging, all wandering through my mind. But today Bushboy had the best poem, uttered as we got into the truck to head home.Don’t fret beach, Although we must leave you now you are always with us, In our shoes.
Well said, my boy.