Dusk

[jeremyyoung]

Dusk
out beyond the samphire beds
muddied shoes muddied legs
hang expectant over bridge’s edge
dangling for crabs

saltmarsh ditch with water lapping
seagulls hang with wings unflapping
sunset pink with all the trappings
frame this gilded scene

beneath serene North Sea sky
big brother emits triumphant cry
for mother with her net to try
coordinate the catch

whilst over off a little way
dad and little brother play
amid the mud and oozing clay
throwing sticks and stones

the bucket fills at quite a pace
as gentle sport becomes a race
with other families neatly spaced
along the bridges' span

dad calls out in ballyhoo
little brother’s lost his shoe
his foot is stuck in stinking goo
right up to his knee

the can of tuna almost gone
shadows match the sinking sun
its time to get our jim-jams on
and into sleeping bags

from the tilted bucket pours
two dozen crabs maybe more
scamper sidewards ‘cross the shore
into the pitch dark dike

salt air breath conveys the talk
of crabs and wormcasts as they walk
with tiredness not conceived or thought
for custard creams and cocoa

[NobodyNothing]

I'm busy and have not much time to thoughtfully praise or expound, but what a beautiful little poem. I took this one in like I was in an art gallery gazing at an oil painting where all this was taking place at once.

You're quite the talent, my friend.

[milo]

bridge's span?

[jeremyyoung]

Thank you Nobodynothing, I appreciate your kind words.

[chrisgas]

I know nothing about structure and poetry but I have been to a place similar to what you describe, thank you for rekindled memories in verse that I can understand.

[jeremyyoung]

Thank you chrisgas, welcome to the site, I am pleased to be of use.