Wash

Waves that lap along the beach,
Swirling foam along the bay
Echoes from the reach
Of the distant reef’s decay

Pouring in the air the spray
Of storms a world away,
The swash of sea beyond horizons,
Like a lover’s hand that skims

An entire coast of skin,
Airy, floating like palm fronds
Across a beach of endless limbs,
Where the island’s rustling corresponds

To leaves which themselves respond
Only to the sweeping wind,
The planet’s comfortable roar,
That, and nothing more.

April 21st, 2026, Kaiholu