You are at peace away from the city.
Sometimes we walk the beach, the beach with trees sat high in the bleachers, on cliff-tops swaying,
cheering on each wave to curl and crash.
You let the sun engulf you the
orange poppies like little suns, sprinkle green glades knee-high. Water whips rocks, bodies submerged, reclined, still.
A seal pokes his head from the shallows; she sees us pointing and smiling back wondering why we live by time. You
brim over with life — who can touch you? one would burn their hands. You’re apart of this beach and in my head that’s where you’ll