Beach painting

Sugar-fine sand

beneath my feet and hands.

I run it through warm fingers

it lingers

tickling as it trickles slowly

coating my sun-creamed skin

with a rough layer

that I brush, brush away

with swift movements of my hands,

and then run into the

cool, weedy sea

to splash amongst the shoal of fishes

under the surface.

 

A poem about the sensory experience of sitting on a beach. 

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