The Beach In Autumn
by Deborah Mercer
is a different place today From where excited children play With happy squeals and frantic fun As sleepy parents catch the sun.
No sandcastles on the beach; No ice-cream sellers within reach; No patient donkeys plod their way. It is a different place today.
Not quite deserted – I can see A lone dog walker, far from me, Man and dog shadowed in grey. It is a different place today.
But it’s not silent. Breakers roar As they roll up on the shore And then retreat, far, far away. It is a different place today.
Or is it? No. I only see And hear this scene, this symphony, Because the crowds have gone away. It is the same place every day!
The time will pass, the seasons turn; The summer throngs and noise return. But, loud or soft or gold or grey, Night falls. Dawn breaks. Another day.