The sea is cooler to day than yesterday,
the sand is damp underfoot, in the bay
dolphins swim about, finding breakfast
I suppose; fresh fish everyday.
Terns swoop don’t want me here, now
that bathers, have gone back to work,
their allotted days of relative freedom
has been absorbed by sand of time.
Holiday photos: “we’re there last year, ”
but for now I’ll take my last swim of
the seasons, shiver a bit, yet feel good
when coming back ashore
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem