by Joanne Allen
Palm trees swaying
fronds touching a tangerine sky
brown armed girls
grass skirted
sashaying in a line across the sand
tourists stepping timorously
out of the resort to watch
not yet able to resume
the swagger of the past
The young couple at the end of the beach
slip away towards the far hut
she, sun streaked hair to her shoulders
he in navy trunks, ruddy, sporting
turning to look at her again and again
to chat, to hold hands
They make their way past the rushed matting
brass bed against rattan walls
cool, private
their bodies too long untouched
unfreed
uncaressed
they come together again like strangers
holding an aching memory of
enfolding
tantalizing
fingers now entwining, experimenting
looking for something that feels familiar
staying close but feeling changed
And I,
lounging under the thatched umbrella
with my hand resting
on the cool glass of a pina colada,
it fizzing seductively,
I’m watching the waves anew
rippling at the shore
in their timeless way.
© Copyright Joanne Allen, THACS Writers Online 2020