Foamy Dream
    by Douglas Gilbert

There is an ocean at dawn
that skirts the night tides
crashing swirls and sea birds

There is a froth to morning dreams.

I’ve been staring at foam in my coffee
remembering the ocean starring in ending rain
a conjured dream of frothy us, stars
beneath an oceanic drink of dawn

It was
coffee boiling hot for
the exigency of a dream, and

when from the freezer I plunged
an ice berg scoop of ice cream in it
the titanic foam made giggle bubbles
that speak of the dream when
you laughed your dainty blessing,
so pretty your voice, your smile in
the swirl of your skirt like a current
or maybe I just imagine such formality
like the majestic blue of the ocean at sunrise
because you know I don’t mind your bikini too,
love the virtues of shallow laughter-water,
know that the splash and the play
do pull tides from the deep imagination

I can be hot
to be cool

and we sat on the white sand
under the silly white umbrella we had borrowed
not imagining rain on our white beach, where we thought
if only sunshine would be in the heart then joy rises

for sunrise at the beach is
a glistening foam
silver crests
deep blues
an orange glow
and ice cream foam

and I dream of you
with fireworks in the sky
because…

maybe I imagine love
blue and foamy
silvery crested

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