The Cottage Tap

Recalling the cottage, washing the sand off our feet after coming up from the beach.

Out from the broken lattice,
below the white clapped cottage side
water spurts from the sand point well
through the one turn tap,
through wriggling toes,

splashes beach sand on the flag stone path
before toe and heel track away,
dripping foot slapped pool shadows,
to the front screen door that springs and slams
behind the damp traces left behind,

from shore side joyful playing paused,
drying in the smiling sun
and the kissing pine scent breeze,
carefree days’ passage kept,
by the flowing time of the cottage tap.