Less Traveled Beaches

Far from Pristine.
Far from Perfect.
Rocks on the sand.
Seaweed and driftwood.
Here and there a dead crab.

Far from pristine.
Far from perfect.
A few broken bits
left behind.
Here and there flotsam.
The wear shows.

Far from pristine.
but the sun shines.
The waves are content
and at times gentle.
You have time to walk
beyond the last footprints.

Far from perfect.
but at peace.
If only for a time.

About this poem

I am still at Cape Cod.

A poem about less-traveled beaches. A poem about introspection. It may not sound like it, but a poem about gratitude. Poetry is never about one thing.

Tom