The humid air inside this nylon cocoon
is suffocating.
The stale lingering scent of yesterdays adventures
fills my nostrils
as the crass squawking of gulls
entrenched in their bitter disputes just outside
fades into my consciousness-
I've been awake for a while now
and I wish you were here.
Moving only my eyes, I spot my comatose tent-mates
Silent, stoic, unmoving
as horizontal Buckingham redcoats.
Why am I still lying here
the world tilts 90 degrees
Fumbling for my clothes, my hands scuff against
billions of tiny unwelcome guests
gritty ambassadors of the cloudy Atlantic
and I am dressed
zzzzzzzzzzzz goes the perpetually disagreeable zipper
I clumsily make my way outside
scaring the white winged sea-gypsies
(they go scuttling away, protesting loudly)
I make my way to the ocean
The sunrise pours over me, into me
The salty breeze fills my lungs
Serenity
I wish you were here
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