Teen Ink

   

The wet sand mud squishes between

your toes while walking along the sandbar.

Your mind thinks of cold, creamy ice cream

and the tangy-tart taste of lemonade

to escape from the sweltering heat.

The swoosh-swoosh motion of the waves

plays with your feet at the water's edge and

dances with little pebbles and baby shells,

causing them to tumble frantically.

The scent of sweet coconut oil

permeates your nostrils as you glance across

the people stretch of sun-baked sand,

dotted with psychedelic colors.

It is while listening to the seagulls incessantly shrill

that you suddenly wake up, only to find yourself once again

back in trigonometry class,

listening to the monotonous drone of your teacher's voice

on an icicle chilled February morning.