Bounty

The newspaper lies on the blanket
unread, fading in the three o'clock sun,
but we leave it, a blur growing smaller,
to walk the shore. It's the eye of summer.

You see it first, this tiny jewel polished
by time and water, a wink of red the size
of your thumbnail. Seaglass, I tell you,
and now you're off in search of more,

filling to the brim the cup of my hand.
And I know what you're hoping, but in
all this bounty, there is only one ruby,
its row of ridges perfect like a shell.

You could live out your life on a beach,
I tell you, and not find another. We've come
so far, and bearing such treasure, turn from
the sun and follow our shadows home.