|At the beach, life is different. |
A day moves not from hour to hour but leaps from mood to moment.
|We go with the currents, plan around the tides, follow the sun.|
|We measure happiness by nothing we can hold... |
nothing we can catch…
|Life is jumping and elusive and momentously momentary.|
|We want to [stretch] the days, distill the memories, make them last.|
|At the same time, we know that the beauty is in the evanescence.|
|Every wave comes in, then retreats.|
|Every day promises, then turns its back and slips away.|
|Every joy has a little tease in it, a
give and a take, |
and leaves a wake of longing.