Summer Revisited

Lying back on the warm sand
I closed my eyes
and felt the low rumble
of the breakers
as they dashed hard against
the ridge of shingle,
giving the appearance of
attempting to both
consolidate and disperse
at one and the same time,
The net result being
little more than
the shuffling of stones
as in a pack of cards.

As the foamy water
receded
the hord of unsettled stones
would rattle their cry
as they were dragged back
to the bottom of the ridge
only to be picked up
again and ever again,
and be violently tossed
up the ridge,
searching for the unique space
that would allow them
rest.

Within my mind I pictured
tail-thrashing salmon,
hook-jawed and determined
fighting up falls
in their desperate bid
to leave the world
to their young.
Is that how the sand was made?
Have these glossy, polished pebbles
given their all
that I might lie here
in comfort?

I smile and give thanks
to the Universe
for its warmth
and support
and a mantle of sleep
overwhelms my earthly musings.