Outdoor Shower

In all the years that I have been staying
at this camp on the bluff
I have taken an indoor shower
in a plastic shell of a box
in the corner of the small bathroom
of the converted chicken coop
that doubles as mansion in the
Shangri-la of a Chilmark resting place.

Two years ago,
as she was waving goodbye on her way
back to the mainland,
my dear pal Lynn called out…
“Perfect day for an outdoor shower.
Enjoy!”

I did.
And was smitten.
With the sun and the open air
and the fun of following the spray
in the breeze
and chasing the soap across the
slippy mossy slatted floor
and the weathered copper pipes
wearing all of the colors of the rainbow
and the shingles sculpted like O’Keefe cliffs
from all those showers before mine.

It just doesn’t get any better than that.
Even in December.