Pico Beach

i slept with the waves crashing
dreamt of babies, soft sunshine, napping
awoke to the giggling of a too-energetic three-year-old
at six thirty, eh em.
(we read sleeping beauty then.)

and we walked down the beach
and i walked into the tide
it dragged me in and lifted me high
and i felt peaceful inside
but also sublime.

and we swam out to where the waves lick your chin
and the crests and the valleys entice you in
further and further til you're lost and begin
to wipe your eyes and swim
closer to shore.

and we made sailor's braid bracelets
(well, i made an anklet)
and listened to worldly music
and did yoga poses.

too soon, too soon
did reality intrude.