Navel Longings
The heat weighs the air down.. down...
it say shoosh~ it seemed to steam
as it wafted from white sand to damp the blue skies.
Long green frond's stir the scene mint in a julep glass.
Quiet invades each opened pore at high noon
as the froth of salt foam caresses toes
and hollows the sand beneath
somnambulant sun worshipers.
Gulls circle in silence
as beads of sweat roll from forehead
between the mounds of Aphrodite...
into the navel of longing.
*Woman God's gift to man
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