Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Beach Hut

Warm wood smell
of the sun-bleached floor
scratched by damp sand
under my purple flip-flops.

Milky coffee from a thermos flask.

The sea glimmered
beyond the beach.

My eyes shaded
by the brim
of an oversized sun-hat,

I paddled in the sea
but never learned to swim.

Previously published on Everyday Poets and Verse Wrights.  

Meanwhile my poem Drift appears over on Crafty Green Poet - you can read it here