Somewhere the edges are cooling but summer still blankets us in. The palms are sweating, wilting up and down the beach. Land without seasons, sluggish and waiting for the unborn wind growing in a rolling Atlantic womb.
09/02/2011
Author's Note: Tampa, FL
Posted on 09/02/2011Copyright © 2024 Meghan Helmich
Really like this, especially the last three lines.
