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I want to go back to Cancun
with my feet gliding
across the cool white sand
and the salty ocean water
cleaning my wounds and shoving itself
down my throat

When it was pouring at 4 am
and we stood in the hut
watching the turtles lay their eggs
as the gods cried in pain

I want to be that young and carefree
when I wouldn't notice my weight
the number of friends I had
and my whole life wouldn't rest on one letter
Nowadays, I'm a numb kind of happy
Rain Nov 2020
The sky shines so bright in the night I think my mind will explode withΒ Β colors untold.
Unpolished Ink Sep 2020
For migrating birds
Autumn is vacation time
Lucky little birds
Mrs Timetable Aug 2020
I want to get away
Get away to that place
That place with the balcony, the umbrella
And the cold sand

What ifΒ Β I can’t
What if I can’t escape
Escape to that space
That place in another land

Would you please just
Just give me that touch
The escaping sensationΒ Β 
Of your healing hands
Your writing hand needs a vacation anyways
Grace James Aug 2020
Somewhere beyond the deep
is a place to which I journey
when I am asleep.

This place is neither cold nor hot,
big nor small,
near nor far,
beneath the stars.

It is a place to which I go
when I must run far, far away.
Far, far away.

Away from the circus,
away from the fear.
Away from the chaos,
away from the tears.

This place is my beckoning,
my caller, my finder.
My reminder that everything is alright
in the end.

My haven.
My truest and dearest friend.

The house by the lake
was nestled among the woods.
A crack in the winding road,
red and white and quiet.

Its windows reflected
the sparkling stream.
Like crystals dancing
in the midst of a dream.

The sounds are loud and soft
all at once.
Chickens, rowers, fishermen.
Silence, wind, sunlight
lapping at the shore.

I close my eyes to see it now.
How bright it is in my mind's eye.
Hello, my friend.
I'll be back again.

With water so blue,
the lake I knew.
b e mccomb Jul 2020
i try not to
get my hopes up
too often
it’s never as good
as i convince myself
it will be

but i let myself
believe in this one
in the back of my mind
the beach

a week off work
ocean waves
hot sand
fresh fish
his birthday
where reality can’t find me

in 2019 it seemed like
a great plan
enter 2020
with it’s 99
problems but
a beach ain’t one

and so now another
year will go by
and i won’t get a chance
to leave this
humid lakelocked town
that will soon cool down
with drizzling rains and
thick white snow

people have lost
their jobs
their lives
and their sanity

and i’m doing
all right
untouched by
disaster and
richer from
overtime

so i should be
grateful
but i’m mostly just
over it

the long hours and
late nights and
going going going
busy bee

but i guess no
beaches for
*******
like me
copyright 7/23/20 by b. e. mccomb
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