Movement II

Walkers, lovers, walking on the sand
move forward slowly hand in hand, hand in hand
here, there, desultory and loitering, minds fluttering with
unity, disloyalty, lies, like the petals of a flower spreading

truth: he loves me, he loves me not -
and over there a child's cry, a pointing
finger at a kite flying joy through the air -
a dog barks, charges past, and on, panting

and on, flinging sand behind, gladness in motion -
waves crumple into ragged lines
and rise to fill again, fall over 
curved spaces in the day that hold

air curled within their fluid fists -
even in winter they rise, suspend, crash
and rinse the sand unseen
when the beach is silent, mournful, cold

their cylindrical hold 
an oxygen pocket 
swallowed down and rolled 
onto the sand, flat and

hissing breath emptied in perpetual
motion, then the slow withdrawing in.
By touch of skin, the kinship cycle
clean and living 

passes on
from crinoline to jeans, our hold too
rises, crests, exhales and spills -
has the secret gone by word of mouth

or eye to eye?
is it whispered in the ear?
the child's cry an exclamation mark
a finger aimed at sea and sky

the kite that flies pure joy between -
is the scene that swells the heart
that feeds like air
is us here, our world, our eyes -

and all its wonder mystifies.

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