Driftwood, floating on percolating tides. Saltwater soaks fossil branches. Sand embraces nooks and crannies. Driftwood, meandering, awaiting a tactile, tacit end. Longing for a final, lasting beach head. The All or the Nothing is my first book of poetry, and … Continue reading Driftwood (Beached, part 3). A poem.
Tri-fin cutting foaming swathes in majestic, molten, crashing waves. Off-shore wind: the only stakes, paddling out to meet the break. To take his certain place in line, for the weaving surf to redefine. To forge a newborn legend free, the … Continue reading The Board (Beached, part 2).
The wild surf, like his impetuous heart, pounds and beats the sandy shore, like a pugilist with vanity to spare. Here the relentless, crashing waves make their mark in odd time signatures, in fluid and passionate syncopation, a symphony of … Continue reading The Wild Surf (Beached, part 1). A poem.
Laidback DM: SteveStillStanding.com 