beach days

We rode in on the wings of storm
that probably accounted for
the lovely sparseness of the crowd
in this begotten beach town. Oh,
how loud they weren't, my bathing trunks!
And how yours kept so nearly on -
in pounding surf, stayed by your hand
despite my watch and jinxing warn
- it's good, of course your suit
stayed on. I really wouldn't want
defeat of modesty in such a lass
by such triumphant surf, so perfect
warm and free. And so complete. We spent
two days in that small town. Came once,
and were drawn back again. I cannot
separate them now. I keep misplacing
key events, from one day to the next
and back. I'll only say, I'm sure
your suit stayed on. Except
for one brief flash

- but that's the way beach days
should be, should go, should blend
so seamlessly between the next,
the one before - and days to come.
One hopes for more.