Brewster Magic

BREWSTER MAGIC

The tide approaches and gently flips the waves on to the beach.
Trees rustle their leaves to greet to the day.
Soft breezes whisper in my ear as I lay against the bluff
Warm sand dances among my toes
A cricket resting behind me, occasionally arises to sing a song
Soon the flats will trade their fish for codders.
The world is still and perfect if only for this instant,
as I slowly drift into what I now know to be “Brewster Magic.”

by Geoffrey Swetz

Written while on vacation in Brewster, MA in 1993 with Shane Rossiter and family.

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