Beach Couple

Almost time for the park to close, so

I don't anticipate sharing the beach 

with anyone else. There's a couple, 

though, right at the edge of the

storm's reach as it beats black waves into a froth

under the full moon, white center 

within celestial ring, heavenly breast 

no less loved than the one he

caresses as I walk past, keeping a discreet distance but close enough to hear her shriek, surprised laughter

as water splashes bare legs beneath billowing dress. 

They don't even see the uninvited guest,

witness to intimacy, fully clothed and in full view

of God and all creation. It's their joy that takes my breath away;

not the wind. Their eyes see only moon and

phosphorescent magic in that one special wave. The wind

tightens their embrace until, under the clouds, two become

just one. I walk alone, bare feet on seagrape-lined walk
back to my car, intrusion ended with a glimpse at shared
happiness so strong the wind blew a whiff my way.

Tonight the beach belongs to them.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012