i could have stayed
there for days amid dune
grass bent by a breeze
blowing in from the sea.
she camped with her family
fifty feet away, their bonfire
throwing handfuls of sparks
into a darkening sky.
i couldn’t hear what they said
but intermittent bursts
of laughter drifted over
as i sat cross-legged
on the sand, a sketchbook
balanced on my knees.
then her father tuned a guitar
followed by the sweetest
notes of flamenco.
and she began to dance,
slowly at first with hands
raised high into the air
and then incrementally faster
until she twirled in time
with melodies as they
were passionately played.
i could have stayed
like that forever —
lost in her moves as night
slowly slipped into day.
