Poetry & Prose

joyous

when we awoke 

sunday morning,

dark water 

had turned 

sparkling cradled 

by shore.


eight of us sprawled 

in sand and sunlight 

sweat trickling down 

backs swaddled 

in cotton pullovers 

racing to the tide 

skipped copper colored rocks

wading legs into autumn 

water shrieking 

as toes numbed

now when i try to think 

of my happy place

i’ll think of here

birthday girl proclaimed

making pretend 

that today could last