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Sailboat
December 15, 2020
Brisk water is rippling and bumping into the shiny smooth yellow hull; the same wind that causes those ripples sways the boat back and forth, spinning side to side along a single anchor point. The sail is rolled up, folded over and over again until it sits at the bottom in a nice neat tube. Rolled up like the joy and laughter that are waiting to be unrolled in that very spot. Two things, full of potential, ready to be unleashed, waiting for their moment, but cant do anything to change their fate.
© Betty L., Fremont, CA
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This is a prose peice describing an object. In this one, I am describing a sailboat.