On Tanner Beach

On Tanner Beach,

wind sculpted a

thousand wavelets.

 

For each, the moon

etched a thin black

line. Boulders blazed

 

like whales breaching.

A driftlog lolled,

an upturned hull.

 

We shed our clothes

and lay down side

by side. Sand beat

 

against my flank

from heel to head.

“It hurts!” I howled.

 

It scoured our

bellies—you laughed.

“It tickles!”—then

 

filtered down along-

side you in a ridge

that held your shape:

 

toes, thigh, hip, breast.

We grasped hands,

felt cleansed.

Route 7 is published by Dixie State University

225 South University Avenue St. George, UT 84770

Copyright © 2019