the beach

tap dancing barefoot
across the shimmering sand,
ribbons of heat
wavering in the distance,
we rush toward the water,
cool and inviting,
fringed with foam
as the breakers
take turns
crashing against the shore.
after the first splashing strides
we plunge head-first
into the waves,
bobbing up for air,
laughing and shouting.
though not aware of it
in the moment,
that memory will live
with us forever,
ready to call up, replay,
and take the swelter
out of a brutally
hot summer day,
stuck in city traffic,
far from the beach.

caught in the rain

black billowing mountains of clouds
erupt across the horizon
the air smells dangerous
the distance grumbles
wind stirs from sleep
in restless fits
followed by foreboding calm
the first pizzicato drops
fall to earth
one, three, twenty
a thousand of them
pelt against your skin
quenching
like steel grown red hot
in the furnace
then plunged into water
hissing and sputtering
quenching the swelter
from a passionate afternoon
in late summer
the two of you lying
by the shore
too deeply lost is bliss
to get up and run
from the rain

one-legged sparrow

a tiny sparrow
with just one leg
lit on my windowsill
and sat looking through
the glass at me.
i whispered to it,
"poor little sparrow
with only one leg,
how sad and unfair
life can be."
at the sound of my voice
it cocked its head
and chirped to me,
"don't feel sorry
for this bird, sister.
can't you see
how strong and clever
i must be to do
even the simple things
that my fellow sparrows
take for granted?
don't you understand
how very much better
i am than they?"