top of page


By Maria Taylor

July is peculiar country       the view is long and ends in water

standing on the beach       I could be my own twin

I see myself butterfly       a lack of mermaid 

my all too human toes       thrash at peaked waves

only sand and water       to clothe me

we stop at a café     eat Kata-ifi, but

the decor’s changed       generations have shifted

my daughters demand pizza       order in perfect English


I am betraying the sun


I paid respects to the dead      saw church candles glow

now at the beach      the sun-tanned bask

   in another solar system      they look through me


I am thinking of someone      I shake out the sand

         from a Pepsi towel       it flaps madly in the wind


                            I am thinking of someone       each grain stings.

bottom of page