
I used to frolic, 60 years ago,
on territory rising by the sea.
My peers and I meandered high and low
among old bunkers, scrambling down the scree
to wave at waves and harmonize with blow
of surf besieging pebbles and debris.
I snapped this shot with wind upon my face,
amid glad memories about this place.
Very smooth use of rhymes, with appropriate imagery and message!
Thanks for the read and the comment.