am I too old to
see the fairies dance – cannot
find them any more …
Now,
In June,
When the night is a vast softness
Filled with blue stars,
And broken shafts of moon-glimmer
Fall upon the earth,
Am I too old to see the fairies dance?
I cannot find them any more.
After Many Springs in the book The Weary Blues by Langston Hughes (Alfred A. Knopf, 1926).
Went to the beach yesterday and with the tide being high had to walk a bit up the beach to find a place away from the crowds.
The sun was clear and hot and bright and the beach sand burned our toes so we dropped our chairs and ran into the water.
The water was wavy and splashy and cool and we spent most of the afternoon in the surf.
It was nice to be away from the crowd.
We could see them a ways away, lining the beach with their umbrellas and shibumi beach shades flying in the the breeze.
We could see them but with wind and waves, we couldn’t hear them a ways away down the beach.
We stayed in the waves, played in the water.
Time to leave, we packed up and carried our gear back to through the beach crowd and threaded our way to the wooden walkway down to the showers to spray off the sand and salt.
While waiting, we exchanged pleasantries with the crowd and admired the babies.
We asked one Mom, surrounded by sun burned kids, if they had a good beach day?
Mom said “You bet!”
She turned and look at her kids and looked back and said, “Though it was kind of scary when they cleared the water and closed the beach those three times the lifeguard spotted sharks.”
…
No Haiku For You 