We leave the drive and turn to the beach.
The tune of the tires on the dark hot road.
Pulling us away from the cold gloom of the woods.
Being bathed in the sun of the pristine sea.
In the red Mustang the paint gleams bright and blinding.
As we leave the forest of the pines tall and shading.
The sound of small chirping birds hidden in the needles,
To the screeching and cawing of the white and black seagulls.
The sauna like steam warm and heavy in the air.
As we get out and walk barefoot through the wet, soft, sand,
The grains clumping and squishing in between our toes.
As a wave crashes against the shore the sea breeze hits our faces.
As we walk down the beach we pass by a old dock,
The pylons all old and antique mineralized by the beat of the sea.
Cliffs coming up to mark our return trip it's now time to get back.
We turn around nature runs from the woods to the sea.
Zachary Clark
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-the-woods-to-the-sea/
