"Cling"

The sun has kissed my shoulders,

the chlorine has stained my hair

and the grass is soft beneath my

feet; rough-soled, warm, and bare.

I've breathed in ripe trees, hot from

the sun's lusty caress, and all

I'm thinking of is lounging; watching

ocean waters ebb, flow, and crawl.

While the sun is setting, the air

is cooler against my skin, here

on my bed, the sheets don't cling

unless I cry, of course, a tear

can make even the coolest of

sheets clasp on to warm hearts

from which tears of love are

shed, and new life finds starts.