The sun winks.
Dip and swell of the playful sea
catches the wink.
“Glitter pattern” flood,
liquid diamonds twinkle.
Wading, he cools burning feet.
Seduced ankles, foamy waters attract.
Arms out,
he dives, a spread-out splash,
into cool waters
that prove
not so cool.
He steps out to catch
parents’ watchful eyes
on children squishing water,
pouring joy,
squeezed through their tiny fists.
The bliss of youth he emulates,
not caring ice-cream drip.
On his heaving chest he lets it stick.
The sun blinks.
Through tree-top gaps,
irregular lattice-shaped designs
on earthly canvas randomly sized,
form artistic eyes.
He watches seagulls chase a dive.
Breathes salty air
through a yawning mouth,
while Sinatra’s voice
caresses balmy skies,
the lazy wind “lingers… to touch [his] hair.”
----------------
He cancels the meet, too lazy to keep.
----------------
The rains fall.
The sun’s ‘good life’ reputation
cannot a reference make.
Happy life floats away.
Flood waters drain energy.
Hard to bear---
exhaustion everywhere.
Scared of the forward step,
he waits to find.
Under the dripping
canopy of the tree,
he settles a nest.
Throws a dice, gambles for the best.
----------------
Bravely he reenters the world.
----------------
Searching a place to place his life,
he places a rock.
On fluttering pages,
scratches his thoughts
to pen a writer’s block.
BLANK PAGES STARE!
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