It was warm enough to sunbathe,
and frolic in the sand,
yet, I could not see the sun rays.
It was not what I had planned.
A walk along the shoreline
left dewdrops on my neck,
and I wondered whether sunshine
would be breaking on my trek.
But the coastal air was chilling
with a sea breeze ‘cross the grass.
And I was more than willing
to allow the fog to pass.
Yet Anastasia’s sea smoke,
like other-worldly stew,
it hangs on like a heavy cloak
so dense, it blocks my view.
However, if I’m patient,
the fog may one day lift.
The sun renewed and nascent,
is proof of nature’s gift.
(Play the audio track and relax, while imagining yourself hovering high above the surf.)
With the sun breaking out over Singer Island…
another day dawns on the Florida coastline,
and the beach quickly comes alive.
Walkers dodge the ebb and flow of lapping water
perpetually pushing against the shoreline.
And the miniature movements of anonymity
are measured against a seascape
captured twenty-one floors above sea level,
where a face in the crowd seamlessly blurs into obscurity.
Hypnotic waves enchant two silhouettes of solitude beside a roiling sea,
while the lure of a lounge chair beckons to a lonesome beachcomber.
In time, a passage over and beyond the dunes…
extends to a passage of twisted tranquility.