WAVES

poetry

The ocean beckons me to the warm white sand.
I step from the grass as it calls me from the land

Sweeping over my body the wind begins to blow
Sand pelting my body like bee stings in a row

The sky turning black and gray, blotting the sun
My body cannot move against the wind cannot run

Cold winds making like ice has  made the rain
Freezing in my bones not once but again and again

Frozen lying in the sand, water creeping up to the head
The wind took my breath now I’m dead.