On Sanibel Island, I shoved my feet into the heavy sand
within the water’s reach. The waves dug foamy fingertips
into the beach, culling stones and shells from land.
I bent to see them, pink and smooth, like almonds dipped
in candy coating. I gasped when they moved. The shells swam
down, dotting the sand with their penmanship.
Perfect.
ReplyDeleteK.
Your poem is all light and lovely and pink and melt in your mouth. It is a nice balance to the dark chocolatey weight of the photograph.
ReplyDelete