Poem Scribbled on a Clifftop

Spring sun beats down
on my face, waves crash
below
it’s easy to kid ourselves
that summer is nearly here
as we go barefoot in the water.
Up here, the wind is on
my face
my shadows lengthen
seagulls screech up above
and out at sea the water
rocks back and forth.
There is still a chill in the air
and two hopeful surfers bob
out at sea, watching the waves
waiting for the perfect break.
I climb and climb
Until the people on the sand
Are like pin heads.

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