Beach

• Harry Smallbone , Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2010

Open, grab, clatter, slam,
Running towards the water, boards in hand,

Feel the swell, giant and brooding,
See the sky, dark and foreboding,
Pick up the pace.
It’s going to be a wild ride.

High up now,
It looks forbidding.
As if any second…
And down you go,
Into a roller coaster.

It seems endless,
That timeless moment.
Then gasp, cough.
Another escape.

Time to do it again.