A young girl stands
ankle-deep in ocean,
legs splayed,
arms akimbo,
hair tangling in the brisk breeze.
The surf churns about her thin legs
spritzing them with saline mist.
A wave hovers
then crashes.
Turning,
she dashes away,
the deflated wave
licking at her heels.
Suddenly
she jumps and spins,
retreating no more.
Facing the ocean,
she crouches low,
arms spread wide,
She wiggles her fingers
and shakes her tuckus
as if to say
“Come on! I dare you!”
As she waits
for the next wave.
“she dashes away, the deflated wave licking at her heels.” I hadn’t thought of waves quite like that. Thanks for the new perspective. And waves do lick as we retreat, don’t they?
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