in unmeasured steps
eyes sweeping the sand
for those perfect gifts
a smooth stone
of milky quartz
a plover feather
a bit of sea glass
i watch her crouch
and easily see
what she must have been like
at the tender age of three
in my mind
i see her as a teen
snatching up shells
or a heart shaped rock
often i have walked along
measuring my step with hers
my head bowed
squinting eyes hopeful
she stops
looks up the beach
a seagull glides
plovers race
she turns
in silence
and walks back
i smile and turn too
the waves tumble
more stones in
on the tide
rain follows us
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