Last Man on the Beach

The sun is low on the horizon.
Stone shadows grow long and black on the beach.
The tide ebbs.
The day is nearly done.

And here you are, late in the day,
beginning, not ending your journey,
last man on the beach,
walking towards the sun.

About this poem

It’s an odd thing, in your fifties and sixties, to feel like your life is just beginning.

I’m there.

Tom