[montsnmags]

"Onshore breeze on sharp-bright sand,
his and hers jeans, fashionable and inappropriate,
pass by bared white-to-red-to-brown skin.

Blinks into the winter’s summer-sun,
answered by the blink
of a passing light plane’s running shadow

answered by shadows and shimmers in the green swell,
answered by a bird tilting, dropping, folding itself at speed
down into the waves, under the water, for sustenance,
like me."