When – Emily Baird

When the lattice of
bare brown and burnt bodies
clots the fine sand
and sunscreen and sweat
ferment in the dizzy air.
When the horizon is blurred as the very ocean surrenders to the sun.
When the chameleon veins throb
Long and lazy
and braved by few.
When the sky is so clear
you could almost see through
to another dimension.
When the tart sand whips, seems fine enough to be ignored.
When the sky is bruising grey
When the healing creates thousands of
little dimples
In the sand.
When the churning spit of God
nearly
spreads out to Wedding Cake Island.
When the beach is alone at last
to perform this symphony
And the dischord of the waves,
And the harmony of the hell,
is the only Time in the world…