Boating Douzetuor

Epilogue: 4 pm, I wake up. Rocking does it, a lilt. The picnic sun hits the starboard where I’m looking. It is a pendulum and soon I’m slumped over, Dribbling a paper umbrella on navy stripes. My girl’s wearing Jill St. John over her shoulder. The sail’s snapping as softly as a dish towel, Wicking […]