Driving to the beach with the sand in my hair,
the wind tossed my soul
Haunting half-footprints left by creatures barely of this world,
floating, ebbing in the waves after their indentations
Golden giddy laughter flows outward,
streaming like ribbons on a Sunday morning.
I run, outstretched, silently exulting
Wind swells behind me, tugging at my skin in little pinpricks,
pushing me into the sky but I--
won't-- won't let it.