Wading

Our kiss is flecked with salt
we taste the ocean brine
between lips chapped by sun.
One hand in yours, one hand to explore
scallop shells sent floating
over the roll of waves and sink
gently to the bottom litter
shells of hermits, snails, crabs.
Our feet walk on stages of time
we, present, with minnow wiggling by
sands murky or tan are ages past
cracked crustaceans future beach;
yet the tide knows only flood and ebb.
We sit at low and swim at high
forgetting the strictness of time;
only hear summer life humming,
our bodies respond in touch and scent
as we tightly hold palm to palm
abiding mother nature’s rhythm
under open skies, flecks of clouds.
Eyes gleam with blue sky, green sea
darkening skin, brightening moods
in the moment sans time.

Creative Commons License
This work by Sarah Holmes is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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