Rhythm

There is a strange rhythm to this particular winter
yesterday was above zero again
Not a day to stay inside, 

so

with a packed lunch in hand

we drove to the beach
heads bobbing

as we grooved to the rhythm of songs from our youth

Row upon row of windswept waves
marched towards the shore.
Boy was it windy.

We walked smooth windblown sand.

Then turning the other way we walked a moonscape

marked by rhythmic tides
Some unpredictable and chaotic

others most organized
even regimental perhaps

Row upon row like a military tattoo.

These two have rhythms all of their own

wagging tails from the joy of life
panting breath

anticipating the next flight of a tennis ball.