Sand

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.

© 2019 harana poetry

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