The Beach, No. 1

My legs, stretched out on rocks at the North Jetty
on North Hutchinson Island in Fort Pierce, Florida.
Hidden is the grand union of Atlantic Ocean and Indian River.
From this place (if you were standing instead of
taking pictures of your feet) you can look across to
South Jetty and the fisherfolk there,
pretty much any time of the day or night.

There may be better things
than spending hours at the beach
but nothing comes to mind
that wouldn't be,
perhaps,
even better with a backdrop
of seagrass and seagrapes,
sand dunes and the call
of wild birds.
Dinner out is nice.
Sunset supper by the ocean
would require more preparation,
a little sand making the
steaks slightly gritty.
We'd hide the wine bottle
just in case anyone
bothered us,
(park rules and all that)
but what fun it would be.
Even making love might
be better with waves crashing
as we crashed gently,
fiercely, into one another.
Not that we've done that.
Yet.




(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012


If I know someone who has made love on the beach, they're not talking. It's probably part of any beach-lover's fantasy, however: a deserted island, The Blue Lagoon, etc. The logistics might be tricky, unless a tent were involved, but it's pleasant to think about.