Sunday, April 12, 2015

Day 12 National Poetry Month 2015

Sunshine, trees, beach! 🌞🌳🌊 from Deirdre


Yes, the word beach definitely needs
an exclamation point.  I grew up
suffocated in the middle of mountains.

Our house was just one street away
from the elephant body of Mt. Forist.
I could almost reach my hand out

and pat the gray body.  It blocked
every single sunset.  Some days,
when I'd get home from school, the moon

would already be poking it's nose
over the beast's back and sunshine
was long gone.  Even my classroom

faced a mountain.  It started six feet
away and sloped up steeply covered
in white birch trees.  I won't deny

it was pretty with the sunlight scampering
through the underbrush but how I longed
for a wide open beach with sweet brown

sugar sand seeping through my toes
and waves, endless and new, crashing,
foaming, receding, repeating nearby.

And, then, we retired and moved near
the sea and finally I could breathe.  In
the summer you might catch a glimpse

of a curly, white-haired lady on a red bicycle
pedaling toward the end of the land
and you'll smile knowing she's heading home.

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