It was an August evening
and the sky was dark;
It drew in the wind
like it was hard to breathe.
The blackberry purple stomach
of the whirlpool rage high above
pulsed in and out
and whipped my hair into
angry strands that stung across my face.
As I walked through the
grass that was almost sand
and the sand that almost conquered,
my ratty tennis shoes crunched
through the sugary dust beneath
and sounded like the thunder
that rumbled on the horizon.
The clouds shook ominously above,
and as the sky darkened
porch lights on the beach houses behind me
flicked on, warm in their amberyellow
that cut through the dark.
Safe in their havens,
people watched the storm roll in
over the churning sea.
But I,
I walked toward the ocean.

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page