a superficial tale

(a series of Senryus)

A superficial 
tale, where the sun rises and 
fades in its cycles

If our beach days are 
slow and repetitive, nights 
fast and more varied

Nights throb to club beat,
and the swirl of the dance floor
or long shoreline walks

It’s the wind and waves - 
sounds that roll on the beach, with
vocals by the gulls

There are seashore sights, 
say that several times fast
- white sands that glitter

systems are working,
the pharmacology of 
vast ecologies 

I’ll try to keep it
less than technical, there won’t
be a test later 

I get these big feels
on the beach, there’s the warmth,
or even a chill

bees live at the beach
one stung me on my left palm
a minute ago

it was on my glass
slurping up residual 
alcohol, I’d bet

I winced, shaking my
left palm, the pain exploded
an urgent message

If a writer’s goal
is to make you feel something
.. no, that would be mean.

It hurt like crazy -
I’m not hyper-alergic
nor insensitive.

if the bee dies when 
they sting someone, well, that serves
the little beast right.

Kiss it and make it
better, I asked Peter - that
sting was over-kissed
.
.
A song for this:
Better Than Before by Pamela

beachdancenightpainsummersenryu

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