Our Crowded Shores

As a child, on a trip to the beach, one July 4th weekend
In a country just beginning to replace
Common sense with political philosophy
It seemed a desolate place to me, on our way through
The hot sand, my parents leading me and my five brothers
Through a holiday crowd down to the shoreline
To find a small spot for us near the water
The gang of us not quite comfortable there
On a small blanket in the sand under the scrutiny
Of the sun and our neighbors, and then
For the first time my spirit met the ocean.

The depths it had to be seen and studied were
As yet unimagined and my ancestry called me to the task
The water rose to meet me as I left the beach in wonder
And there among the man made flotsam, a jellyfish floating
Wherever the tide would run, and as a boy who wanted
To know how things work and animals behave
I tried to fish it out, and it stung my arm, for my thoughts
That were not that of a jellyfish, and the next wave knocked me over
My Father picked me up, brushed me off and explained
That animals will bite if you handle them roughly
And that no one stands against the sea

The shore, that struggle between the land and sea
One side barren, but crowded with people, the other chaotic
The wet sand between, and in the distance something
That could have been a lighthouse, but I was young enough
So as not to know what was there or how far
That stood as if to suggest some civilization in this place
With too many people and not enough room for a kid to play
I trudged along that wet sand, leaving the sunbathers behind
But soon lost sight of whatever it was I had seen out there
And it was getting way too dark, I had to turn back for my own safety
Just then I was retrieved by the State Park Police
And was as relieved to see them as a boy who thinks
He is in trouble can be to see the Police, but my parents
Were just happy to get me back in one piece and just in time for supper