Writ & Whimsy

I stand at the seaside
watching waves in mirrored silver sheets
cascading over gold-grained ripples,
depositing flotsam in their retreat.

Summer stretches out like a giant beach towel
Drops of sweat form on my sandy legs.
The children plow into the water in joyful extravagance
as I walk along the beach.
I do not have their giddy abandon.

My eyes scan ahead, taking inventory;
a mental collection of treasures:
scattered broken shells and rocks,
tiny blue luminescent jellyfish,
remnants left behind.

I am fascinated by a lifeless butterfly spread smooth,
embedded in the sand, as if arranged.
Black outlines the pattern of its wings
like a stained glass window.

Shadows and light are reflected in those panes.
As the sun burns bright in the lengthening days,
I will carry them with me into the deep waters.

---

This is adapted from a poem I originally posted here and then revised and workshopped with my poetry critique group. I’ve kept the original version below:

Walking along the beach.
Waves in mirrored silver sheets
cascading over gold grained ripples, 
depositing flotsam in their retreat. 

Scattered broken shells and rocks.
Tiny blue luminescent jellyfish.
Remnants left behind.

A lifeless butterfly, spread smooth,
embedded in the sand, as if arranged.
Black outlines the pattern of its wings 
like a stained glass window.

What do you see reflected in the panes?