It’s early and your board’s heavy under your arm and you still drag it to the beach, once your on it, in the water, you feel the power of the waves crashing over you, trying to pull you under, so you paddle, you don’t want to eat sea foam for breakfast and then you feel it, the push from behind you, no ones around, open your eyes and see you’ve dropped in on the denim waves and your arms burn from three days of heavy paddling and carrying boards but they push you off, starting in your perfect push up position to your feet being planted perfectly where they belong, now your walking on water and the crash down in the sand comes too soon but for the next 12 yards, enjoy your walk.
NOTE: this poem was based on the poem by Marie Howel "Part of Eve's Discusion." My poem's form is based off Marie Howel's poem.
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