Sand and Snow

The tan grains linger

as I shake the towel.

My hair is one stubborn curl

who fears a brush with boar bristles.

The boardwalk invites splinters

cutting the soles of my feet.

The lull has passed

and all that is left— 

unforgiving waves.

Cold water drips down my side,

and my clarity sets in.

I am no longer having fun.

Please cover me up.

Please bring me home.

Chasing the changing rooms,

sodium chloride infiltrates my skin.

This is not what I wanted.

But when the frozen flakes dust my sweater,

nose burning bright.

I chose foam and seaweed 

and the hermit crab quietly eating away.