The terry cloth
has got my back.
Salt air fills my nose.
The children play in stereo sound.
Waves crash from ear to ear
in the background.
Parts of my skin
feel warmer than others.
The fresh breeze mitigates the burn.
The words dance before me,
and are all topsy-turvy
on the page
I have no strength to turn.
My eyelids feel heavy,
my arms go slack,
as I slip,
I surrender,
to the inevitable
beach nap.
Children running on the beach.
Lupita holds an MFA in Creative Writing - Poetry from the University of Florida, and has served as a staff scholar at Bread Loaf Translators Conference since 2021. She is a Vermont Studio Center Fellow and has received generous institutional support from Bread Loaf Writers Conferences, the Kentucky Women Writers Conference, and New York State Summer Writing Institute.
Lupita translates poetry from Spanish and is currently translating Venezuelan poet Oriette D'Angelo. She loves visiting the beach with her children, volleyball, word games, black and white film photography, dancing, darkrooms, road trips, and trains.
Not Enough Poetry 
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