Freckles.

Scrunch each of those toes...
feel every minuscule grain of sand.
The warm, salty wind blows;
time whips through each hand.

The sun will keep count…
leave another freckled kiss.
For each trial to surmount,
there will be a taste of bliss.

So let that long hair down.
Close those hope filled, heavy eyes.
Waves crash…retreat; hear each sound.
Let only the  imagination comprise.

- Amanda Martinez