December morning rain
jounces on the window pane.
Blankets crumple, eyelids flutter
to the mystery of dawn.
My sweetheart sizzles an omelet in a skillet,
drizzles cheese and chives,
a glass of orange juice bright and shining,
as though I am about to drink the sun.
On our bikes, we waft through
the beauty of time
the streets of Tybee.
Oh, Tybee, you are a lover’s calling.
We listen to heartbeats
of sandpipers and seagulls
on the very white shores.
We breathe the breeze, feed seeds,
watch a bird flutter and fly.
Faraway, the lighthouse beckons.
A tapering body of mischief,
it calls us in a language
only we hear.
In a mélange of orange and pink sky,
birds in black bodies zig zag
as we succumb to the ocean’s low and high.
Waves lather into land,
kiss our sinking toes,
rush to marry the seams of sands.
Copyright © 2024 Aruna Gurumurthy
All Rights Reserved
***
Aruna Gurumurthy is a creative thinker and poet, who has published seven poetry collections since 2015. Her prose poems, sestinas, and free verse capture beauty and art in the world and appear in Penguin Random House (forthcoming), Michigan State University Libraries, Bellevue Literary Review, storySouth, South 85 Journal, The Penwood Review.
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