The sand
Once plastered to wet skin
Should begin to fall
A good brushing off, you’re almost done
Oh wait, you missed a spot.
And don’t forget the salt lined lips
Eyebrows glued together
As sun has dried the water off
But NaCl doth linger
The wet shirt’s dry but not the top
And the sarong flaps lazily in the breeze
The sound of surf still calms the mind
And you hope that heat you feel is windburn.
You pile into a tired car
Sand somehow finds the footwell
Your last beach trip for the season done
At home hot showers for everyone
And a belated lunch finds empty tums
Til next season, Sea, I say adieu.
