Contributor: Gary Thomas Hubbard
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Picking seashells up at the shore
My arms are full can’t hold anymore
Fiddler Crabs that scurry past
Can’t catch them, they move too fast
Popping in and out of their holes
Running through shallow tide pools
Waves that break upon the rocks
Hitch up my pants take off my socks
Wading through water up to my knees
Splashing around doing what I please
Seagulls flying high over head
Turning to look as if it’s something I said
A couple of dolphins swimming along
I can see they are sleek and strong
As the sun sets on the shimmering sea
There is no one left on the beach, but me
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He was born and raised in Ohio, and now lives in Florida. He is married and has two children. Most important he is a Papa. He has over a dozen poems on this site and one printed in "Stormcloud Poets second anthology".
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