Little Lazy Sunday Poem

Seaside Evening


Salt dusted coast,

peppered with apartments

soufflé clouds

wind bent palms

teal waves falling over themselves

for a slice of beach

for a lick of heaven


coffee-crescented cups

drying blotched crema fortunes

rings of Saturn, mineral stains

speckled with chocolate


surfers like buoys,

pin prick the sea

the soufflé falls in

rain sauces the high rises

as the lighthouse glow wades out

into a blue and burnt horizon’s ocean.