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



they come together again like strangers

holding an aching memory of



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