Under an infinite blue sky,
the sea turns my legs pink,
like shrimp,
and I know
I’ve been away too long.

My legs inflamed,
I search for a conduit of relief
to carry me through
the next stretch of sand.

A place
where the water is cool,
built of waves and white foam,
like whipped cream
splattered across an apron,
and meets the gold sand
washing shells–

smoothing and embossing them–
until they submit,
join the golden beaches
and the whisper of the breezes
through the trees.

The whipped cream splatters across his apron. Vivian Chan
The sun turns my legs pink like the shrimp/And I know I’ve been on the mainland too long. Daniel Griggs
White foam meets the gold sand/ washing shells, smoothing, embossing, until/ they submit and join their golden beaches. Joan Gencarelli
Wondering at the infinite blue sky. Shaun Flores
The whisper of the breeze thru the trees. Jack Askew
Flayed and enflamed, I search for a slender reed, a conduit of cool relief to carry me through the next stretch of sand. Maya
The water is cool. The water is wavy. It’s so good in water. Avery Clewley

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