The Waters of Oceanside

By Abigail Edwards

Along the shore I sink my toes

The ultimate boundary line

I overstep the rubble and waste

Among the bubbles and brine


The waters flow unceasingly

Sweeping soft along the sand

Without complaint accepting us

And what we leave on land


It takes our refuse quietly

Gathering in its foam

A voiceless servant left to clean

Long after we’ve gone home


Yet as it bears our burdens

Hope still whispers in the kelp

That one might turn an unblind eye

And bend to offer help


“I’m here, old friend,”

One whispers as they take what lies adrift

“I’m sorry that it took so long,

And thank you for your gift.”


– A tribute to the waters of Oceanside, my home away from home

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