Beach Starting

February 15, 2008
By Samantha Little, Park City, UT

The cold wind blew through my wet hair,
The black suit on me.
I stood on the hill,
Watching the waves lash the ground,
With their forceful power.

My green eyes scanned the horizon,
Searching for something special.
I saw the thing I was looking for,
And I carried my board and sail,
Down to the cold water that I had just left.

I stood under the sail,
And lifted it above my head.
The water dragged the sail down,
Making it hard to keep up in the air.
I put one foot on the board,
And waited.

The wind line came,
And lifted the sail’s weight from my arms.
The wind picked up,
And I jumped up from the bottom.
I put my other foot on the board and shuffled forwards.
I held the sail in my hands,
And smiled.

Success at last.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!