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by D. Savannah George

I lay next to you
on the beach
as we make
sand angels

Yours is much
bigger than mine,
longer of robe,
broader of wings

We laugh like
children, drinking
in the smell
of the sea,

Dashing up
to drench our feet
in the surf,
then away again

We treasure hunt
for shells,
pretending we are
old men with metal detectors

You stop suddenly
and kiss me
the wind teasing your hair
your lips tasting of salt

We come back
to where we left
our angels, and
they are mostly gone

The wind and water
having wiped
them away,
but delicately

Poetry copyright 5 Oct 03 D. Savannah George. All rights reserved. Please do not steal my work. If you would like to reprint, please ask permission.