August Bank holiday.

A girl arches her back
and lets her legs flow out behind her.
Waves lap at her hair.

A dog points his tail
and tests the strength of his lead.
He is on his way.

An old man slumps down ,
face hidden behind his hat.
“I’m resting my eyes.”

A gull soars up
on a breath of summer air.
Somewhere there are chips.

A child is buried
in a heap of soft warm sand.
There is always one.

A small girl struggles
with a board bigger than her.
“Mum said I could have it!”

Far out in the blue
a white sail glides with calm ease.
Going nowhere fast.

A solo swimmer strides out,
Towards the light blue of the deep sea.
She isn’t messing about.

A dad in long shorts
pushes his baby through the soft sand.
“Better than the gym, this!”

Hot dog in cold mouth.
Shrieks, gasps, laughter and splashes.
Warm air on cool skin.

A tiny fly lands.
A bright flash of iridescent green
lights up a windbreak.

The waves creep closer
to a pristine tartan rug.
“Frank! We should move.”

Intersecting lives.
Each taking the last of the summer
and running with it.



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