tipping my tennis shoe to put it on

In random on 05/26/2013 by beth

tipping my tennis shoe to put it on today, gray-brown sand
trickled out, falling cool and dry onto my fingers and knees.
I haven’t worn these shoes since we walked Plum Island,
hiking through marshes and over dunes, finally finding
the single open trail down to the beach.  we climbed
the observation tower there, legs sore but we laughed
as we went, elated because of the new spring warmth
and birdsong, the dim musk of the marsh and stinging
sun-whipped faces.  We looked for the semi-palmated
plovers, listened for their cries, scanned up and down
the closed beaches to the north with binoculars. Closed
beaches for mating season, for preserving the scarce
species: you wrapped me in your arms, kissed me, we
groped like it was our third date.  The sand filled my shoes
as we crossed the beach, headed toward home.


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