Washed away

February 23, 2011
By , Evanston, IL
Washed away
My feet press into the sand
I can feel the ruff surface prick my feet
The sand compresses
Under my weight
Making marks along the sand
The waves not high enough to reach my feet
But the sound rings through my ears
I look out on the water to see the sun setting
With all different shades of oranges, pinks, purples and yellows
Surrounding the sun
Which looks like liquid gold
The wave slashes me
With water so fresh and cold
I sky is turning dark
The sun is setting
It will be dark soon
The shadows will take across the water
the grass will sway alive
A place that is Familiar
Will become unknown

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