A mild case of shell shock

Lounging seaside again as the tropical sands trickle down through my toes perching here on a scrap of bright, sun faded canvas I'm just specks of glazed flesh fully drenched in warm oils drying to a bronze tone in my slingback beach chair margarita beside me I feel dapper and tan while before me parades in a tide till they eddy nubile, young flesh-bikini ed huge pot-bellies in speedos mixed with musclebound studs watching people's amusing as I study...I hear Many sounds that surround me bounced in reverb off waters in wide...stereo waves to the shells of my ears shouts of joy...children's laughter parents calling their names bidding them to be careful as the surf bowls them over and resets them apart plus occasional warnings shrill blasts from a guards whistle when souls float out to far with eyes closed I discover this cacophony takes me on a nostalgic journey over sands of time ...back to tin pail days of digging and building sand castles when I was a wee lad surrounded by moats and I swear I can still hear intermixed with beach chatter the sounds of my mother calling me back to shore but she's been dead three years now and I'm, "Oh, so much older." then the little boys voice that is shouting,"O.K. Mom!" "I'll be there in a minute." hear his feet pass my way. Could it be that the ocean traps the shouts of past Summers capturing them in strange sound waves that recede with the current only to be returned at a much later date mixing pastimes with present as the roaring green surf cast them back from before? Or am I just remembering all those days lost forever snuggled up with my Mom wrapped in soft cotton towels with her arms tight around me now denied evermore. as I'm lounging here seaside sifting sand through my toes maybe I've had a bit too much sun, I suppose or from four margarita's melancholy arose maybe that's all who knows?? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ArtisBanana Phone sunshine by piston Written March 13th, 2002 © on Mar 13 2002 02:39 AM PST   0 • 1