The sun is shooting reds, oranges, and greens across the water
The scent of lavender merges with the savory sea air
I lean on the railing and inhale deeply
So nervous that my teeth are chattering
Then I hear my name
I go to the stairs to find you standing on the sand
Poetry books in hand
You are a vision in white linen shorts and an aqua sweatshirt
Your hair, just beginning to curl under, twists in the wind
“Hi,” I breathe not knowing if the word is lost in the wind
“Hey,” you say, your eyes the size of the sun
I attempt to say something clever and sophisticated
But as I descend the stairs
All I can do is stare
– Robert A. Cozzi
