David Chadwick

A poem for August

 

Welcome

 

Home again after six weeks in the Mediterranean sun

I went to the beach to be reaquainted

with sea and sand.

 

The southerly greeted me 

the only way it knows how,

with a sharp slap across my face

and a stinging stream of sand 

around my ankles.

 

I let it wrap cold wreaths around my hands,

wriggle between the buttons of my coat,

and nag at my sleeves with its chill breath.

 

I have been warm for too long.