Tides of Solitude

Waves lap at empty shores,

Rhythmic whispers to no one.
Footprints, once abundant,
Now washed away without witness.

Salt-laden air carries memories

Of laughter long silenced.
Seagulls circle overhead,
Crying out to absent crowds.

Abandoned beach chairs rust,

Half-buried in shifting sands.
Umbrellas, once colorful,
Now bleached by relentless sun.

The boardwalk creaks and groans,

Weathered planks remembering
The weight of countless steps,
Now bearing only wind and spray.

A lone kite string tangles

Around a forgotten sandcastle,
Its towers slowly crumbling
Under the assault of time.
The lighthouse stands sentinel,
Its beam sweeping empty seas.
Warning ships that no longer pass,
Guiding souls no longer there.

Shells wash ashore unnoticed,

Nature's offerings unclaimed.
Each tide brings new treasures,
Only to reclaim them, unseen.

Driftwood, smoothed by endless journey,

Rests on the tideline's curve.
Stories of distant shores
Whispered to unlistening ears.

The sun dips toward horizon,

Painting skies in mournful hues.
Gold and crimson reflections
Dance on waves for no one's eyes.

Beach grass sways in evening breeze,

A quiet applause for day's end.
The dunes hold their secrets close,
Tales of summers past untold.

As darkness falls, stars emerge,

Twinkling over silent sands.
The moon casts its silver path,
An invitation never answered.

In this solitude, the beach endures,

A timeless stage set for life.
Waiting, ever patient,
For the return of human tides.