Monday, July 29, 2013

surge surfing

Fingers of the ocean rush out to pet our toes
As we dash down the waves, hunting with boards
Then bobbing black insects we cling to life’s rafts
Waiting simply for motion to pleasure us

Watching for the right swell, careful as polymaths
Foolish as foals we leap aboard
And if we are lucky, find ourselves
Dragged along like seaweed, screaming laughing.

Finally thrust grazed against the foreshore
We bask in the glory of our briny ride
Until the pull inside our greedy water baby souls
Haul us up for again for another go.