A poem.
Winter surfing at sunset
Off the California coast the golden sun is cold?riding the lip of the earth. The wind drops
?to just a whisper of tomorrow's storm,
?in the lavendered east a twist of new moon hangs.
?A shadow slips out of the sun
?and I catch it. Standing as if on a rollicking train,
?I make a run for the shore
?slicing the wave in half.
?Peeling the wet suit?off
?it rolls down my body in shivering lurches
?gathering like black bark about my feet,
?my limbs white as a birch.
?As I dry off in the hopping cold
?watching the sea turn pewter,
?dolphins rise and fall, heading south.
? ? Mike Hedrick Skip to next paragraph
Source: http://rss.csmonitor.com/~r/feeds/csm/~3/ZlshFUxKtn8/Winter-Surfing-at-Sunset
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