Basking (Poetry)

Beached, trapped in the amber glue of holiday inertia,
energy bleeding away, absorbed by sand,
evaporating, sapped by the undiluted sun,
as distant surf sings ballads, low
hypnotic choruses our bodies recognise
and, breathing to those rhythms, keep basic time.

Sea echoes back our sighs, rolls over, synchronised
beat for beat. All are swimmers in the blood
and know its music, womb comfort close,
basking on creation's salt-rim edge,
as tides dissolve boundaries
reclaiming, cell by cell, its drowsy progeny.