The Beach

On a cliff, the roaring ocean is beneath me,
My bare feet move and scatter rocks to the surface below,
The waves crash against the cliff devouring the loosened pebbles.

I move downward towards the white capped waves,
Wading through knee high tick-grass that tickles my calves,
And whips back and forth in a strong breeze, stinging my legs,

I move faster and feel that breeze blowing, tossing my hair about.
Smooth, dark strands whip my face, sticking to my lip gloss,
The wind slows, but I’m running, so my hair floats out behind me.

I come to a halt on the rocky beach, my chest heaving, gasping for air,
I watch the curving waves for a moment, mesmerized,
Until a wave crashes around my ankles and I dance backwards.

I feel a sharp pain in my foot and find that I’ve stepped on a sea shell,
I blow the sand off its smooth surface of blues greens and pink,
And place the shell in the pocket of my jean shorts.

Above me an eagle floats through the animal shaped clouds,
The wind ruffles the eagle’s feathers, as he soars between a dog and a mouse
Then he rises becoming nothing more than a brown dot on a monkey shaped cloud.