The sound of waves crashing,
The sound of waves crashing,
and of children laughing,
and the thrashing of the wild sea of blue,
of the cold and breezy air,
as it whips around my hair,
as I try to stare through glasses filmed with dew.
With skin as tan as sand,
I walk across the sand,
commanding myself to question all I knew.
The salt which clears my mind
helps me to leave behind
all that is unkind to get me through.