Walking at the water's edge your hand in mine,
feel the water crash and the ebb of time
waves advance and retreat about our ankles;
the bottom swirling up, like thoughts upon waking
from an unfinished dream
Luna yet to rise, stars illuminate the mists
dressing the beach in the gossamer of summer nights.
Gentle breezes swirl the haze
as if the beach breathed softly as it dreamed.
Dreams of days spent in the idolatry of youth,
prostrate before Apollo; of nights richly blending perfumes and car fumes,
and tanned, taut bodies, dancing to the music grinding out of the radio,
sultry and hot - Polyhymnia’s sacred beat..
Walking at the water's edge no hand in mine,
feel the waves crash and the ebb of time.
Remember living for summer nights, an altar, built to love,
Remember its beauty and its grace before it turned into a pyre,
while we watched and did nothing save dance around the fire.
Original
4/27/07
4:31 PM
Revision #8
4/22/09
4:51 PM
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