Susan stopped halfway down The stairs to watch the sea And the seagulls diving in the surf For perch and the sun glinting Off the wave-tops right before They succumbed in confusion To a contrary tide. Her smile turned to a frown As she looked down into Its gritty churning And then to the rest Of the stair-steps Bent as she was toward Lying in the sand. I was once caught In such a tide. My first wife, Karen, watched As I waved for help Not taking me seriously. I had to go back out To sea to find another way; Which is what I've learned Thus far watching Susan smile At children chasing each other With sea-weed pods And digging in the wet Sand to hold up handfuls To passing gulls.