Palm trees speak to the wind
with clattering leaves, coconuts fall
out of restless embrace –
Low waves  wrap warm hands
round my ankles,  pull
sand out from under
my naked feet.
                    
Through purple clouds,
the sienna moon rises, pours light
on the evening dark water –
She is full, her dreams not yet fallen
on sleepers,
while sleep still awaits.

This poem first appeared in published in Musings: An Anthology of Work
by the Collingwood Writers’ Collective (Collingwood Public Library, 2016).
Used here with the author’s permission.