Comfortable Kind of Paradise
Kelp on the beach
snails on the lanai
Palm fronds epée each other
in the tropical breeze
Lounge chair flakes rust
drinking in salty air
that will be the death of it
One cigarette or another
will do the same for me
some day
but right now
I take a deep draw
calculate the intervals that separate
sailors wading ashore
from red sailboat capsized in the surf
cursing saltwater and seashell shards
those cuts sure do sting
versus
sandpipers running on the beach
twig legs and scratching toes and
no complaints at all –
No complaints at all.
11/11/19
Claudia McGill Writes Poetry, Did You Know That? 
What a wonderfully evocative poem. I could practically taste the salt and smell the surf. I loved the image of the fronds as epees.
Thank you. It was the word “epee” that started this poem, strangely enough. As soon as I saw it, I thought of palm fronds. Again, I do not know why, but…I am used to these things coming up from inside my head out of nowhere, but it is a delight when they do something like this image, which I love. In my dream life I would live at a beach.