Thanks to poet Glenda Bealle’s post for inspiring this. I got the idea for the following poem’s title from a sign on my niece’s bedroom wall in Florida. As I write this, it’s cold, cloudy, and a little windy. Snow is forecasted, but I’ll believe that when I see it. Still, it’s a far cry from sunny Florida.
You may wonder why I don’t move to Florida since I write about it so much. The answer is simple. This time of year, the weather is ideal, but in the summer, with the humidity as high as it is, it’s miserable. That’s why I like to visit and dream about Florida on wintry days in Wyoming.
The following poem illustrates that. Glenda’s post contains a perfect video to go with it. This is a 60-minute beach-at-sunset scenario, but when I hear the waves, I’m reminded of the Jupiter, Florida beach at any time of day. Click this link to hear me read the poem.
On Beach Time
A winter day in Wyoming,
my mind takes me to Florida
where I feel the sun against my bare skin,
breathe the warm, salty Jupiter air,
walk on sand and water,
eat a sandwich under an umbrella
while listening to the ocean.
I’m already warm.