All year round I shook out towels,
Unpacked bags, dropped pebbles in bowls.
But dust keeps dancing across the glass
In golden moats ‘round castles and holes
Where dunes still murmur all our secrets,
And pools of light still shift in form,
Where salty hair cascades in curls
And skin feels weathered, gritty, warm.
And once again I taste the spray
Once again I smell the air
Once again I hear the whisper
Once again I feel you there.