In these parts, it is customary to swim,
and I was walking on concrete to sand.
Before I had even smelled the ocean
but was still caged
by traffic, and roads,
my lover waved from a train.
I smiled, and waved gaily in return
until the train swung its rattling boxes,
and flipped its loud metal tail.
Strolling past strangers,
I could not hold my face
from beauteous smile
reflected,
at some location,
I'm sure, by his.