On Turning 60 - Morning

I could take you a picture
 of a late November ocean
  inviting enough to plunge into
    later

I could take you
 I couldn't paint you

I could tell you of images
 of yoga on the sand
with sun
and feet
an  old man insisting
 on putting his socks on
   on one leg

I could whisper
 secrets so grand
  they just come to me
   on the sand
and I beg them stay
 long enough
  for this