Sand-dusted toes
and a strawberry nose,
skin pink and salted,
fresh freckles peppering
sore shoulders.
Sunshine seeps
past window tint,
baking the leather seats
as we wait for the
drawbridge to drop
and reconnect the street.
I can recall everything
about this ride home
from the beach-
granola crumbs,
radio hum,
my mum
singing along
off-key.
I recall the waiting
but can’t seem
to remember the bridge
finally lowering-
or anything after,
for that matter.
Only the sensation of waiting-
preparing to gap the deep-
then nothing.
How profound,
how uncanny.
Or maybe-
I fell asleep.
pm poetry 