Beaumaris Pier...the last time

Packed away in the attic
our tacky, tin buckets
and spades...

the old, Kodak Brownie
full of memories
of sea and sand, crabs
and strange smelling bait...

the sea - silently
laying down its salt
beyond the shutter.

I pray that the last place
you ever travelled to
between this world
and the next

was as warm
as the tiny B & B
we stayed in
with Mum and Dad

and that your goodbyes
to everything
had that laidback pace

and lasted as long as us
sipping our lemonade ...waiting out
the rain.