She Took Venice

She bought a sarong in Venice where everyone is beautiful
though the surf smells and seagulls scour the tideline.

All along the shore the ocean unfurls its soul.

Beer with salty clams to peel, dip, and swallow.

The bar faces the ocean with a poolroom where poets rhyme.

She bought a sarong in Venice where everyone is beautiful.

One size fits all with three ways to fold, wrap, and tie.

In Venice, where guitarists skate the boulevard

all along the shoreline the ocean unfurls its soul.

Sea birds ply ocean weed, piles of shell, and salty form.

Bougainvillea drapes the cafes. She collects all she finds.

She bought a sarong in Venice where everyone is beautiful.

She took the ocean home - salt, shells and sun coils.

Maybe he'll come over with a hank of garden lettuce or another sign.

Because all along the shoreline the ocean uncurled its soul.

On the whisper of her sarong she crosses the wooden floor

and watches him cut grass, sun on his shoulders, tasting salty brine.

She bought a sarong in Venice where everyone is beautiful

and all along the shoreline the ocean unfurls its soul.

Tasked with the challenge from Poets & Storytellers to write a poem about a sensual piece of clothing, I immediately thought of a  trip to Venice Beach where the beach was littered with what the ocean didn't need, where sarongs were as popular as sun hats and, yes, where everyone was beautiful.