Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Sifted



Salted,
white sand encrusted
and wind blown,
noses strawberry red
shoulders blistering
we licked our lips
thirsty
from playing all day
in the waves

waiting
standing in the wind
settling our feet deeply in the sand
against the rip current
that pulled at our ankles
standing ankle-deep
looking out to sea

our hands were so small
a sand dollar filled them
completely
and cut
into the hinges of our fingers
when we tried to close our fists

a thousand small shells split
beneath our bare feet
but we felt no pain
empty relics
periwinkles
thin and crunchy
ruined
pressed into the wet sand

the littler boys ran
whooping
following the boogie boarders
muscled and tan

the young girls clumped coyly
together
along the strand
in limbo
among the sunbathers
whose mature breasts filled out
bikini bras

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