Treasure Island

Jeffrey Tillery

Gray Hippies at the Beachfire

Familiar musk, husk, hinges rust
Hendrix, Hollies, hippies holding hands
Seamist sundried salty dust
Dogged feet mottled with sand

Lovely little orange wax star
Melts across the top of the sea
The hot sand cools, rotate the choir
The nightbirds start to sing

Beachfire light, commune and croon
Unabashed, unafraid, unrepentant
Wisper and swoon, mull over the moon
Like the days before socks were invented

Insatiable pit takes all that we give
Flashes bloom in the oaky smoke
Sparks aspire spit out by the fire
then burst into nightfalls cloak

The glorious blaze has given its all
We took everything from the last ember
All that is left are the smoldering bones
of the souls that will not be remembered

Heads full of wine and songs out of tune
Shake the blanket, it's time to go home
A slog in the sand as we walk from the dune
up the path to our modest mill stone

Hand in hand, our feet mottled with sand
Like the days before socks were invented
Tired and tanned on an evening so grand
Unabashed, unafraid, unrepentant

Submitted: Thursday, May 15, 2014
Edited: Friday, May 23, 2014

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Topic(s): beach

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