to the beach

I stalked out to the beach,
Slow-legged, weighted
Equally with bucket and spade,
And feeling sand trickle
Into all the nooks of my sandals.
I had a sand speckled ice-cream,
One solitary lick, and it dripped
Until the bucket was full
Of tongue, and melted sky,
And three months of beaches,
Sun cream that didn't soothe,
And the youngest little one
Leaving his shoes by the tide,
And losing them to dutiful waves.
Making bicycle tracks in the sand
With a stick of charcoal
That my father didn't give me,
I reflect the moon in my bucket.