Poem: “Curl and Crash”

You are at peace away from the city.

Sometimes we walk the beach, the beach with trees sat high in the bleachers, on cliff-tops swaying,

cheering on each wave to curl and crash.

You let the sun engulf you the

orange poppies like little suns, sprinkle green glades knee-high. Water whips rocks, bodies submerged, reclined, still.

A seal pokes his head from the shallows; she sees us pointing and smiling back wondering why we live by time. You

brim over with life — who can touch you? one would burn their hands. You’re apart of this beach and in my head that’s where you’ll

stay.

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