Tag Archive: sand


Tongues No Longer: Tide

She searches for sea shells, slowly combs sands,
then wades out waist-high; the surf erases
yesterdays’ traces, and less is no more.
She (it’s just she) is shucking shells by the shore.

© Chagall ∞

Aloha

I’m an ukulélé by an open window and
I’m hoping that you’ll pick me up to pluck
Sing a song about three lovers near the water
Lala lala lala la aloha-oe

© Chagall 2016

Beachworthy

Sands are cooler this time of day,
evening shore’s spongy underfoot,
refreshes the soles on up.

My towel skirts me,
hula at the waist, a tuck-knot,
long, cool cotton sways,
massages me, naked thighs.

I buy a coco-rum-nut at the hut,
torches burn, leave a larger than usual tip,
fly chica behind the bar
rewards me with a double-floater-shot in return.

Salt air leaves me heady, nostalgic,
for some primal scene,
saline roots, when hot springs sprang,
before speech found its way to our tongues.

Duet up the beach plays Jobim,
he, nylon acoustic
she, silky throat and lovely neck.

Samba for lovers,
smell of herb
from under umbrellas.

The rum is good,
arouses my caramel,
makes me thicker,
I glide, boogie board on bare feet.

After the verse, at the coro,
I step toe to heel, to toe to heel,
dancing like no one’s watching,
’cause no one is.

My ears pop suddenly,
the rush of knee-high waves
swooshes crisp, tens of decibels louder,
foam about me touches my towel hem.

I am doubly alive, in overdrive,
oxygen never smelled so good,
clean, sweet, perfect pleasure,
just breathing in, keep breathing in . . .

Back at the hut, I double-up rum-nuts,
bum a cigarette from the fly chica,
who lights me up and smiles.

I do a paso dobla,
in a rum numb,
up and down the beach,
dancing, someone’s watching.
Queres dançar comigo?

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

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