Spring Beach Break

by David Goodrum

 Love hands me the oil
and loosens their suit. Bronzed

shoulders glisten in the rising body heat.
I lie under umbrella shade
charting when Love burns. Time

roils, clocked by the water churn.
Tossing olives, cashews, I tease

and amuse the wheeling birds.
Clouds amass across the strand.
Bare skin reflects the darkening gray.

For a moment I forget young Love
is moving away. The breeze spirals aloft

what’s not tied down. Chilled,
others leave. Gulls snatch
away remaining crumbs. As shadows

that grew sideways disappear,
I study other contours of the day:

Oil seeped into the blanket.
Stray seaweed beneath. Love, nestled
in the sand, snoring, deep in beauty sleep.

They make the world surround the beach.

Likely Demise

by David Goodrum

 Like a stone unaware of erosion.
Water ignorant of evaporation.

A rock, helped by someones,
tumbling off the mountain,

then moved away from the stream
keeping some rough edges.

Water, fallen under sky-cast
shadows, taken in

by soil, birthed from a spring,
riding the river, smoothing

stones, oblivious to the dilution
with saltwater ahead.