dying sun with a final lingering look, kisses the white sand leaving a faint dusting of rose in farewell. waves touch the shore lightly, caressing the sand with loving fingertips. gulls gliding on air currents, proclaim their adieus with lusty cries. soft breeze changes to a whistle, whipping the waves to foam, beating on the breast of luminous sand with urgency. dark clouds scuttle across a twilight sky, as gulls are whisked away. surf pounds unrelenting, to write its own hieroglyphics with fierce intensity. hypnotic frenzy of frothy waves coming ever closer to their climax, as tears fall from a wind-streaked sky. to capture, fold and slowly ebb, feeling clean, washed, serene while the gently lapping waves whisper their tales of madness.
Author’s Note
This poem was previously published in Alioth.
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Storms at the beach, the best!