chagall backdrop

The lime-pink houses
along the beach
stand in wait
for the dreamscape,

the laughter of days before storms
took the island
by gale, and nowhere
was alee.

Kites ripped and ditched
on rock, strung out
on waves so close
to shore.

Lonely gulls
bear the cry
of their own.

Though they glide
graceful, silent arcs,
atop salted winds
in updraft.

I miss the barefoot sound
of running on water
when the weary
were rested,

fresh
in steadfast color,

not faded,
heathered,
or torn,

fit to
taut bodies

loathe
to relinquish
the day.

© Chagall, 2013