Roaring blue ocean,
the waves in and out
like God breathing.
Red toenails, green seaweed,
sea gulls, white caps lap white sand,
life guards, flapping warning flags,
while we who live in winter play
as the waves nip our joyful toes.
Hotels, like pyramids, staring at us,
always gazing, never changing.
Does the ocean look back at us too?
Are ocean shores in Heaven?
Do they mark the time we have left,
eternal, endless waves?
Originally Published on Fine Lines Magazine