Member-only story
Sand Actions
Each ferry is a popped balloon
1
A couple in striped shirts
stares across the sand.
I can’t tell if they are married
or deep in revolution.
Children bury their eyes
in beach book pages.
The sun off the water
is a bonfire extinguished
in the wake of each rich yacht
that disobeys the signs.
2
Sand makes the insects sing —
loud as a packed night.
Cockroaches and cicadas
blend into a hiss of bee flight
and bird cackle. The dew
rests on a reclaimed garden,
a hovel for skunks who invade
the commons with tragic stories
that linger as we drive
with the top down,
pointy shoulders stained
by a south wind.
3
Each ferry is a popped balloon —
a beacon of escaping crabs
that walk sideways across the dock
drop breadcrumbs for shorebirds,
slip into parking spaces,
queue for the bus, the…
