In a Dream

I know the wave is coming
I smell its salt the tangy scent:
Swirling foaming aching.

The sand too soft for running
Each step sinks deeper
With leaden legs

Panting raging breath
So shallow dry with fear
Where are my children, lovers, mothers?

Where is the hard cliff's edge?
A ledge of stone a thousand feet into the sky
My fingers bleed and tear

A spray of wet and sandy wind
I feel the roar, the wave so high,
So glassy green and cold

My body borne upon its crest
And thrown upon the highest cliff.
It breaks and dies
Yet I survive

© 1997 J.L.Stanley