Beneath A Copper-Tint Sky (poetry)

It was a beige sand beach beneath a copper-tint sky,
where with each untroubled step we walked away our youth.
The air carried the sound of crashing waves as the tide rolled in,
yet my lips can still retrace the imprint of her kiss.

From what seemed an unfathomable distance
we watched the shrimp boats slowly return to shore.
One by one they shyly vanished
as if they thought it best to let us alone.

In their passing I could not help but wonder;
what glory is due reward for a sailor,
surely exhausted, dirty, and sore?

The instant our fingers entwined
a brief shock set a new rhythm to my heart.
Once again transfixed by her gaze,
I was absorbed by a mystery
that I had no hope to comprehend.

Do those men know the touch of one
so perfectly matched to themselves?
Has a grace like hers been crafted
to compliment their souls?

Her cherry lips spoke a verse so delicate
that the words could barely bridge the gap between us.
And a torrent of passion shot through my veins,
as if God's presence had finally been confirmed.

So with the dying light ducking below sea-oat covered dunes,
we traced the last dozen steps of sand and made our way home.
I will never forget the roar of those waves,
or the smell of the ocean on that humid Georgia night.

For it was on a beige sand beach beneath a copper-tint sky,
where with each untroubled step I first knew what it meant to be alive.

Hunter Dasten was born May 3rd, 1987 in Marietta, Georgia. He currently lives and writes in Savannah, Georgia.

An archive of Hunter's articles is located here.

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