Vigo’s Gold

There is a beach where the sand is made of gold dust,

mica, phyllosilicate minerals,

tiny rose-mirror shards collected on the shore,

glimmering like wet sun under your feet,

coating toes in luxury,

cascading in sudden galaxies,

as the waves pick-them-up

and swirl them like in satin in silt,

break studded with turning glitter,

running in rivulets deposited where their lips leave them,

spilling streams through miniature valleys

of speckled stardust,

stardust, shining all around you,

as you tread into the tumbling sea

of gold.