Memories of Virginia Beach
Unpacking the sweater I was wearing
on the beach, under that veiled sky
bathing me in the late summer’s heat,
I can hear the surf, the daring waves
surging up like greenish snakes and
approaching sideways, hear the white
noise hissing at the tops, I can see
them washed ashore rolling toward me,
watering the hot sands of my memory.
Copyright © Ingrid Laymann | Year Posted 2006
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