Kiawah
On the gray balcony
of a private house.
A private beach front balcony,
looking out at a starry night
of ocean breeze and ocean sound
that washes over our words,
making them softer, significant
as we stand naked to the waves
of sound and star sprinkle,
naked to the blustery breeze flit
brimming with salt and a bit of sand.
Naked is naked rock.
For all my fantasy, naked on the balcony
the star sprinkled wind swept balcony,
naked is not to flutter and quiver with buoyant life
it's to be solid and stark.
Surf pulling sand sketches designs.
Wind pushing sand whirls patterns.
The exquisite night hits my bare flesh stunned:
I slip back inside to emerge in a moment
wearing a silken gown
to ripple whish whirl
and feel the flourish of sea breeze
splash through me
and sway and surge and swirl
and swish
with being.
1996 Womankind, Anthology, Anderie Poetry Press
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