Corolla, North Carolina

Sunbath licks my skin like tub water-
I skim the surface of the sky and
watch a distorted horizon through
foggy reading glasses perched
on sunburnt nostrils.
Salt caked on milky white legs
scrapes off in sheets; the
gulls laugh at my awkwardness.

Usually careful not to overcook,
I do most of my writing behind
a window, watching from a
cushioned hiding place-
but usually the canvas before
me is still unmarked – whitewash
waiting desperately for imagination
in paint.

Today, cobalt is infused
in myrtle scented air. Magenta kisses
my cheeks and green reaches out
to embrace each traveler with
amnestic bliss.

Dreaming is reserved for daylight
and stars, like lonely nomads, wander
about the herds of cotton cloud life.