family vacation on a barrier island warm sand blue/grey/green sea
salt left behind in shimmering pools as the tide pulls free
polka dot clouds decorate the late afternoon sky
everywhere a stiff breeze carries fresh laundry fishy seaweed scents
ruffles hair whips umbrellas pulls fierce-faced kites higher than gulls fly
today even paradise cannot still my soul’s yearning for home’s comfort
my youngest granddaughter hair in wild tendrils eyes flashing
runs toward me unclasps her hands reveals a sand crab
no larger than a dried white bean stranded on its back translucent pincers
waving wildly I help her turn the tiny creature over place it on the sand
on our knees we watch it scurry a few inches dive in an instant
deep into a miniscule hole home safe
Tana Miller is a proud member of the Hudson Valley Women’s writing group, co-author of their anthology, An Apple in her Hand, most recently was published in In Her Voice. She’ll read a poem in an upcoming video from The New York City Society Library. “I read myself to sleep every night of my life.”
Lightwood 