Kickin' back, musing, observing, and gathering inspiration from the hills of East Tennessee.
Monday, February 9, 2009
A Walk on the Beach
A WALK ON THE BEACH
Sand like velvet ribbon Flowing between my toes; Shells - pink, gold, white, jewels; Some pure, some marred; Many scarred from endless lulling about The ocean’s playground; many cracked, broken.
The briny air, sticky sweet, Caresses my arms like an anxious lover, Sighing, restless; The sky a blue curtain, A print of cloud, like bunched up sheets, Resting on the horizon bed.
Tender, cool waves lap at my legs Then dart away, roll out of sight. A cool breeze holds back the sun that, Like an anchor, Wants to drop me to my knees; Dawn turns dusk, The sky darkens, I become a shadow in retreat.
Copyright 1997 Aleta Aren't each of us walking on the beach of our own ocean that makes up our life?
This poem will become part of my memoir. I also write poetry and it was the first poem that I shared with my husband when we first met and began to compare interests.
I can't help but marvel at the diversity of the experiences that nature makes available to us for our enjoyment: woodlands, seasides, canyons, deserts, waterfalls, and many many more. There's something for everyone!
Rabbits cookin' coffee -- that's what the locals call it. But here in this little hollow in East Tennessee, when the hills surrender their misty hostage to reveal the stalwart cedars growing by the stream in our pasture, I know there is no place on earth I would rather be. The welcome mat is out! Come and sit on the porch and chat with me awhile!