it was probably three summers ago the last time we laid together on the beach
and it was quiet or abandoned
our blankets were ruffled and slithering sand made it's way through the creases
i was laying with my cool white feet on your bare chest,
reading my book while the breeze took issue with whatever page i chose.
i got to an exciting part and dug my toes into the flesh of your torso unconsciously and
that woke you from your nap
so you stretched a little and patted my calf softly.
i rested the book open on my body and peered at you from behind my sunglasses, half-smiling
as you sat up to take stock of our surroundings.
a thick swatch of scotch broom behind us rattled off scratchy songs in a wind-driven brogue
from the other side of that thicket a university student squealed over a frisbee toss.
you stood, wiping thin patches of sand off the back of your swim shorts
and raised your arms over your head in a little yoga nouveau.
i closed my eyes with the weight of my hardcover
comforting my belly for i don't know how long in all that quiet.
when i opened them again you were wading into the tawny ocean and shade was creeping over our oasis
the frisbee game had degenerated into peals of laughter and an awkward game of tag
the girl in her white bikini being caught by young men in board shorts and
the whole heap falling in grass breathless
i watched with amusement and felt glad of the fact that
i'd already made my impression by that age.
you were swimming far out into the inlet by then
and i watched your golden head bob slowly away
what perspective i had to wonder at
when i took into account the north shore mountains beyond
and the oil barge you may have stowed away on.