This seventy eight plays in the head still—
A needle scratches out melodic grooves
leading the convolutions and folds
of a young developing brain in synchrony
to the rhythms and beats of a tropical stew
far away in a mystical coastal city’s playa,
where warm air caresses and clothes are optional. A longing for a simpler time seeps to bone, vibrating, the funny one happy; remember? Legs begin to sway with the palms, memories float, clouds drift, waves laugh and the moon looks down in wonder.

-cec