Beach Day #5

The sand molds to my butt
I bury my toes in deep
An anchor to the Earth

The water is so cold
That my legs are numb
My inside extremities are colder
Than I ever thought they could be

Kids are everywhere
I watch them
I see the parents
Who are playing with their kids

I see the parents who are texting on the phone

Lifeguards in
Play-like row boats
Stay the line

Beach Day #4

Soft sand in places
I never thought it could be
Fine grains, I imagine
That I'm laying on gold

The sand molds to
All bodies
My body
My imprint

Sand in a box
Sand at a beach
Sand at an arts and crafts store
To be sold

As I walk back
The sand turns dry and gritty
On the pads of my feet
And blue, cheap flip flops