All along the Hampton Beach boardwalk
The summer businesses close up as the temperature cools
The relentless stream of swimsuited vacationers
Giving way to retiree power walkers
And welfare case seacoasters on rusting bicycles
At the boarded up entrance to Blink’s Fried Dough
A spider is making quick work of a fine pelt of webbing
Which could not have existed there a week ago
Capturing both fat horseflies and sea moisture
That catches the withdrawing sunbeams in neglected corners
This is the moment the tiny things can reassert themselves
But in another month, the frost will have come
And the cold will capture everything.
About the Author
David Lawton authored the collection Sharp Blue Stream (Three Rooms Press) and serves as an editor for greatweatherforMEDIA. Recent work appeared in Marsh Hawk Review, Heroin Love Songs, Maintenant 14 and the Pittsburgh anthology from Dostoyevsky Wannabe Cities. David also collaborates with poet Aimee Herman in the poemusic collective Hydrogen Junkbox.