rainbow umbrellas,
cheap folding beach chairs,
and bright red, plastic coolers
scatter and mark territories
waves crash, the water
thins and stretches out,
shrinking back into itself, pulling sand, pebbles and tiny white seashells in with it
the sand, a damp tan
where the saltwater made its mark, revealing the power of the moon
from earlier that day
salty air tangles my hair
while I sit on top
of my faded green “Life is Good” towel raking the sand through my fingers forming circular grooves around me
hypnotized — I look down
at the multiple spirals I’ve made
and wonder
what song I would’ve created
if the earth were vinyl
and I were its needle
-Catherine Buckley