Arms lightly grazed by seasalt-licked sand
They’ve gathered to find delight in something
The water’s edge lubricates socially as well
Is there music which captures the feeling?
Pop-up guitarists have been known to linger
Their offerings fade in and out of earshot
I rarely pause in my forward momentum
Whether through gentle breeze, or gusts of wind,
Still or variable, the air is tactile, now within
Leaping off of aquamarine waters
Celebrating all the walkers
No matter the weather, it welcomes me in
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