Dawn at the Beach This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

November 15, 2011
I walk along the beach, feeling the sand squish between my toes
and the crisp breeze stroke its cool fingers through my hair;
the salty smell of the ocean floods my nose
as I breathe in and out;
I jump away when the tide kisses my toes
but venture back cautiously
until my ankles are submerged in the warm, green water;
I bend down and my fingers find a sand dollar
as white as flour, with one tiny crack running down the middle;
I brush my finger over its smooth surface and smile;
across the water, across that vast expanse of tranquil ocean,
the sun rises slowly, triumphantly,
its reds and oranges and yellows spilling out into the sky
like an overturned paint bucket;
it reaches out to me and catches my glance as if to say:
“Here I am.”

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