Ah so, the moving moon calls me to remember,   
And, yes, the dry leaves lisping before the rain   
And the waiting calendar of imminent December,   
Brings back forgotten images to pass my eyes again   
The listless splash of sea spill and the sunlight on gold arms   
Sent circles out around us and surround our small world   
And the morning moon was harmless as we ran our way to swim   
But the moon was big in summer, dark winter's only cold.   
Now out on the beach I see the sea splash through the rain   
My footsteps leaving pools for prints will soon be washed away   
The sea and the summer sky have touched, but only the sea will stay.
 
©1972 William H. Southwell
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