Island

What gives the island such lure?
The lone strand
flower-pressed onto the horizon
necklace of sand strung seashells
shoulders tucked bashfully under
the rolling green summer dress
cleanly cuts off at the water.
Do you itch with seagulls
and crawl with visitors like ants?
Or do you lift a little out of the ocean
with the excitement of a hermit crab
when we come to see you?
I find not where your feet rest
but ask you stay where the barnacles
crystalize
for I do not like the sight of the horizon
without your shoulders constantly
daring me to wonder