See how its curve captures grains, expanding
beach along this Coronado hotel
front. Its bent length of dark rocks, commanding
every pebble’s fate, starves neighbors’ portals
ranging south. Better to view Tedesko’s
design at St. Louis Airport, groin
vaults like pale arches awaiting frescoes
on a cathedral’s cylindrical wings.
Yet without it, we could not lie here, tide
able only to lick our feet, bodies
aroused by warm sand at midnight. You cried
softly when I touched you there, then long sighs
as I caressed your moist curls so lightly,
our muscles wrapped in rhythm with the sea.
Roger Armbrust
May 22, 2008
