Scarborough Beachcomber

She strokes the air, grazing the sea
with her wand, sweeping it
from side to side like the blind

testing the future with their canes.
The metal detector signals.
She bends, water licking her

rubber boots. She shifts her other
pole, dipping its mesh basket
with bladed rim, to retrieve

a promise. She believes
that dreams drift to shore,
and that she will uncover

one by happenstance
like her daughters who expect
the lunar push and pull

to wash a piece of someone
else's fortune up onto
their muddy toes.

--- Audrey Friedman