Alissa K.

August Beauty

Dawn’s early tide recedes
Far beyond reach.
The sky and water one,
Pale dunes span the vanishing ocean’s face.
Soft, rhythmic ripples cross the
Sand’s surfacing dimples.

Naked prancing feet
Dance across hot floor boards,
Worn with age and relentless sand.
Once glossy oak, now beautifully old.
The floor tangerine from slanted
Golden beams shining through
Glass doors.

A single pair of flip flops lay tired
Strewn across the bed.
Grains of early morning sand
Sprinkle their bottoms,
Dampened by the sweet and
Tangy salt of the ocean.

Now both shoe and foot lay still,
‘Till the ocean’s next dawn
Returns the tide and feet quietly pad back
To the shore’s edge.




[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2012 EDITION]


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