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Block Island

Charlotte LeBlanc


Brisk seaweed air sweeps against
my chapped, smiling lips
and I am convinced that those briny depths
hold more than broken shells and ships.

The sand warms my bare feet
while breakers chase foam and beach
and those who stand impervious to the sight
I itch to shake and reach.

Sunlit warmth caresses my wind blown cheeks
and light breezes lure my curls to ripple, to sway.
Silent respect dawns on my formerly unmoved mind
while sun worshipers bake and small children play.

To jewel blue heavens gulls fly free
and I roll ocean-worn granite in my hands.
I keep the souvenir and leave up the rocky path
pausing to admire where the battered lighthouse stands.

I blow mental kisses to the end of my peace
only to lock serene sand away in my mind
and leaving myself hoping, no anticipating
the next scrap of happiness I might find.