Thinking of You on Holden Beach, Labor Day
Early morning sun dyes the sky
lipstick pink and pumpkin orange.
Evening’s sun will replace
these with shades of gray.
Waves thunder onto the shore,
shaking the ground as I walk.
The wind blows foam off the storm–
whipped waves that come in sets of ten.
Foam skitters across the sand,
melts into receding waves.
Above the tide line, the sand
is loose and hot, below, it is laced
with footprints of laughing gull and sanderling.
But this is how it is:
Afternoon sun bores into my brain.
Wind lashes dry sand that
roughs up my legs as I walk.
Remains of fishing lines, Styrofoam cups
assault my eyes. I walk anyway,
hoping the wind will blow you away.
Silkworm 2019
