Revive.

Snaking yellow ribbon ripples,
the beach is exposed under
pale hot grainy feet.
Sticky lips and red skin
blend into hoards of rosy people
lying in the sun, soaking in heat.
Tired old fairground sounds
engage my ears and my nose catches
smells of donuts greasy and sweet.
Deserted boats rest on sea-sodden mud
with salt-sprayed windows
observing an old town, deadbeat.
But you and I,
we give the place
a loving revival.