Her white linen dress flows
and flaps in the wind.
Flashes of bare skin
bathed by
the setting sun glow
with its golden light.
And each succulent step
along the edge
of surf and sand
unearths every forgotten
dream I’ve ever owned
for something whole,
leaving me raw
and exposed.
Resting in the shade
of a Japanese pine
I take it all in
as the late August heat
bakes my skin
from the inside out,
despite a refreshing
tidal breeze.
I marvel as waves
ebb and flow
to kiss her feet —
and eventually
erase all traces
of her path.
