Saturday, November 19, 2016

The Surf Check

So many orange clouds trapped in little boxes 
containing films of various sizes.

So many surf checks at dawn.
When the wind is yet to awaken.
When the world is washed anew again.

Me and my thoughts treading over crispy cold sand.

Shaking the nightmares out of my beard with that first duck dive.
Some quiet time before the hubbub of the working day kicks in.