I get in my bed, and it’s full of sand:
Our day at the beach didn’t go as planned.
Jellyfish, sunburn, trash in the ocean,
Galveston heat you could bake a brioche in;
No bathroom in sight for our potty-trainee,
just a castle-shaped bucket, my purse, or the sea.
The kiddos took turns getting sand in their eyes
while I felt ashamed of my cake-batter thighs.
We know that it’s senseless, but once every summer
we spring for a day trip that’s always a bummer.
Next weekend, we’ll happily hang out at home,
away from the Gulf and its feculent foam.
Cara Valle’s poems have appeared in The Rotary Dial, Mezzo Cammin, The Lyric, The Grub Street Grackle, Literary Mama, and Epiphany. She teaches high school literature and poetry while homeschooling her 3 children in Ann Arbor, Michigan.