Peach painted sunrays
seep through reddish
pink clouds

they reflect on  water
lapping at a sandy island shore

the palm tree
she's curved like a taut bow
fronds sturdy not limp

clustered together
down the beach
her four sisters

there are no people
but somehow we don't feel alone
we are in love

it's private
it's paradise
but maybe a little out of reach


Whit Howland © 2019