The palm trees sway elegantly in the ocean breeze
as she lounges at twilight upon the beach
and ponders, a cheap paperback
tented, forgotten, on her thigh,
that perhaps she could have won,
striven harder
toiled longer
to achieve her dream
of skiing down a mountain slope
snow dancing beneath her feet,
chilled wind whistling past her ears…
But all she has is here,
is now,
the palm trees swaying,
the sun-warmed sand beneath her chair.

The ocean sings a song of endless summer
as she breathes in the salty sea
and picks up her book
to escape her broken wish.