Ebbing tides

At dversepoets today we are writing about family body traits, focusing on a couple of compound adjectives.


Ebbing Tides

The ebbing of the tide and
silken, dark, wet sand
left no trace of him,
or his footprints.
He did not know back then
it wasn't the end
of the line.

They walk just like him,
short legged, yet of fettle form,
sharing his casual gait.
They mimic him,
hand in one pocket,
letting the other
postulate.

Like he did,
his son wears
astute specs on his nose.
There is a tilt, blink,
a nod, salty eyebrows
squint in the sun like his,
a striking familiar pose.

Grandsons have similar
jawlines, smiles, hands
and sophic eyes.             
In certain blue angles
of light, his great-grandson
resembles him,
though taller in size.

I wonder if my father knows
his granddaughters,
a new great-granddaughter,
have such fair bonny faces.
Surely he guides them with
a full, happy heart
on journeys to faraway places.