Full Moon Risen

Above the spume of wind 
touched waves at South Beach,
Stood there as a moon flew 
with golden glow that filled the night sky,

Sculpted sand sifted beneath my feet 
where my tread carved more,
Scudding clouds threatened to obscure, 
but failed their hiding task,

The moonlight glistened 
from the edge of the ocean down to my feet,
I dodged seaweed strewn on the shore, 
and edged to the verge of wet,
And wondered at the wonder;

not alone I turned to call others to my side,
But they wore shoes not made for shedding 
and clothes not made for rolling,
Strange it is to miss the splendor 
for dry feet and unsalted ankles.

Steve Pedlow

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