Small Hope

We walked Small Hope
step by paddled step
skirmishing with seaweed ribbons.
A necktie of laced shoes
lovingly kiss at my nape.
Feet scuff sea
as it sand-ices with froth.
We say nothing,
still fresh stars break silence
from their moorings
to light our steps.
Heads lift briefly, but no sound.
I steal your views a comment
yet our distance stays dumb.
Walking on,
the tides wash carpet
pulls back, to spare us and Moses.
Then biblical fanfares rise
and all manner of your friends
descend on us,
dabbing their aerial feet
into the ready-mix of
old sand castles
and BC life,
till you fly.

Jerry Pike