Beach

crabs in the shallows-
a hidden sandbar barely
revealed by the tide
–
onshore breeze-
knots of seaweed
drying in the sun

the smell of sea salt
carried on the inland wind
by dangerous storms
–
flying fish-
on the bowsprit
the sea in her hair

pearly morning mist
the crew of eight rows as one
curling flat water
–
bulrushes-
a passing wake
laps the shore

my temper flares up
in the heat of the moment
yet I’m the one burned
–
desert sun-
my ego buried
in the sand

hoping against hope
to stem the incoming tide
and still it rises
–
august-
forsaken
by the sun

ashes in the air
embers of glowing orange
peering through the flames
–
quiet laughter-
coals dying
in the night

the arc of the sky-
uncountable stars over
an ocean of sand
–
a blanket of stars-
hand on the tiller
slave to the wind

naked in the sun
draped in caribbean light
among the seashells
–
abalone-
the warm glow
of auburn skin

giggling children
burying my feet in warm
caribbean sands
–
shearwaters-
palms fronds
in the breeze

candle lit windows
on the way to Rodanthe
fending off the night
–
the fire’s glow-
darkness
at my back