Joy # 2

Light falls in tattered rags across the beach –
the clouds are playing tag. When they diverge
the sun comes out a moment, then retires

behind the drifting grey. The view is wide
and there is no one there to share the joy
of making patterns in the soft, wet sand

that fade upon the moment, each new wave
an eye that winks at me. From time to time
the floating sun grins at this one below -

I’m much too old and faded not to know
that what’s important is just miles away;
here’s only shifting light and out at sea

a host of glimmerings that heave and fall
to no real purpose, and the constant roar
of greenish water making for the shore.