Autumn Eve Nick Saba Poetry October 30, 2019 1 Minute Cool, sinking, soft and fine the beach sand is like a bath for calloused soles. A crescent moon hangs above terra cotta shingles. The soft dough envelops the spaces between the toes rejuvenating like rest for a busy mind or a massage for achy muscles. Share this:TwitterFacebookLike this:Like Loading... Related Published by Nick Saba I'm a writer who practices ultrasound. Poetry is my passion, and Irony is my best friend. On my free time I take pictures of people's organs to help radiologists make diagnoses. View all posts by Nick Saba Published October 30, 2019