Folly Beach

The pages billow in the wind

And I burn through the umbrella

like a compliment

Kissing my shoulders

carried by the rolling waves

Skin out like an exposé

I rise and then fall

tasting the sweat of Earth

grit in my teeth and toes

I look down the row of beach houses

to the pier reaching out

holding onto the sand dunes

like an hourglass in the afternoon

leaving discomfort in our shoes

I can appreciate these properties

without a dream coming true

Featured in the 18th edition of The Scribe: Ohio’s First State-wide Arts Newspaper