If we lie on the beach, reach through froth
press into sand as our bodies crush each into other
the bowls made by our hips gather seeped ocean
edges rise like glass battlements piercing sky
and promises string salty tears across our backs
When we finally stand to leave, shake off foam
waves sneak up and, lobbing salty spit, rush back
washing away the sculpted stamp of our bodies
does the first carving of sand made of us tell the truth
or is it the ruined print after the wave recedes to sea
I do not know how far to horizon will wane the tide
how long the sand will repose from brine and tears
all I know is to marshal grains, impress our forms
and begin to rebuild the battlements of our union
because it’s what we do, we gather ourselves again
Beach image, public domain
Sharon Bonin-Pratt's Ink Flare 
Comments on: "Sand Sculpture" (26)
An artist, a writer, and a poet. How did I not know how good you were at that last? This is why we need a monthly coffee.
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Thank you for the compliment, Jacqui. I’ve never considered myself much of a poet, but I’m sometimes moved to try the genre.
And I don’t need much motivation for a coffee chat.
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Ah, a poem after my own heart. Nicely done. Hope there are more in the future.
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This comment means so much to me coming from you as I don’t think of myself as a poet. But sometimes the muse opens my heart. Thank you.
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Smiling. Hey, I started writing poetry in late October. Never hurts to try. Poetry has helped me on searching for the right word.
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Poetry does demand one be succinct and articulate, whereas story permits a bit looser rambling. Should you be interested, here are the other six poems on this site: Only Fall, 9-16-13; The Silent Wail of the Callow Heart, 11-18-13; A Walk to Darfur, 12-21-13; First Laugh, 3-19-14; All the Colors of White, 8-11-14; Into the Pause, 10-16-14. No obligation of course. Much of my poetry is deeply personal and just writing it is sufficient.
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I will take a peek. Thanks for sharing. I find poetry helps me with my fiction. And it is deeply personal.
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Yes, tis. ❤
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Much of your poetry touches many strangers deeply. Quite an accomplishment, Andrew.
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Smiling. Thank you for saying that, but honestly, I write about the universal subject that everyone relates to. Have a great sleep, time for this Chimp to crash.
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What? Sleep – even you? (Giggling)
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LOL My customary four hours.
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I know you don’t always sleep well. Take care of yourself, Andrew.
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Thanks
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WOWEEEEEEEEEEEE ZOWEEEEEEEEE! Fantabulous! Wadda ya mean you’re not a poet? If you aren’t a poet then do not post anymore powerful poetry to disprove what you believe and take this post down immediately.
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Thank you, Judy, but poetry isn’t my metier. I’ll begin to write a poem and then let it ferment for about a year or more, go back and edit, add, revise, then let it ferment a bit longer, and eventually make a final effort before declaring it fine. (that’s fee-nay, but I can’t get the accent to come up.) Sand Sculpture took two years – fifteen lines, two years, molecular progress within the expanding universe. Still, I’m so pleased you like it.
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Just because your process is what it is doesn’t negate anything. You are a poet in my “book”. Fermentation is very healthy for our guts and produces tasty repasts.
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You’re too funny, Judy. Thank you again.
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Oh my, Shari. Lovely. Such determination found in your words. …salty tears across our backs… you write of a strength I’m thankful still exists.
I never knew. You are full of surprises. I will read this again and again. Your choice of words and the emotion they provide me, a mere reader of poetry, welcomed. Thank you for sharing your poetry here, my friend.
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Wow, thank you, Audrey, for those words of kindness. I feel confident as a story writer but not so sure of myself as a poet. Still trying to grasp the basics and render them meaningfully. This one took about two years of tumbling words around the computer until they firmed up as a poem. I’m so pleased you liked it.
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It’s two years of tumbling good. Truly…wow
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🙂
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I think you are a poet Sharon. I would say that most of your writing is done with a poetic turn of phrase. This poem is a great reflection on relationships. “does the first carving of sand made of us tell the truth
or is it the ruined print after the wave recedes to sea.” Fantastic
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I’d gone for a walk on the beach, as you can imagine, but the poem didn’t start forming until the drive home. I’d been thinking about my marriage (married a very long time) and how the relationship has evolved over the decades, and connected that to the movement of sea and sand. Still, the final evolution of the poem took a bit more than two years. Thank you for the kind comments, Irene, I appreciate your take on the poem.
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the poem reads very well. your first stanza sounds mythic, as if you and your mate, emerging from the surf, were the first humans.
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I think when you’re newly in love you do feel like the first person on earth. No one else is in your orbit and you are each other’s sun and moon.
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