By Silver Strand

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Commercial Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Revisiting the beach I first learned to swim- fearlessness- a cliff led up from the strand and in the meadow a bull skulled all day- a warning in red paint ''Beware of Bull''

Submitted: September 12, 2015

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Submitted: September 12, 2015





Under the forlorn cry of gull
Above the break of, surf
I amble ,  leaving footprints of a past that open up before me
And direct me as I go
 walking backward into the future

The breeze billows in the bay ; between theAran islands and blackhead
A boisterous wind beats against the cliff –
Beats as a drum then plays around the barbed wire fence 
 Aeolian harp , and heartbeat of the ocean ;
Without crotchets briefs or staffs ,  yet syncopated by crashing wave
And I recall one cherished day , mined from the quarry of memory
Where, in this place first found one sudden day
The  joy  myself to float upon the water
And how my  flesh embraced  the  ocean then as it took me whole
And  set my body  to slither weightlessly
Delivered , from  open womb of sea 
And earth and sand quivered;
Swayed  beneath my belly and
 I swam

And I came out of the sea  that day , triumphant
And I romped out  fearlessly to the world
Over cliff and boundary fences
(That threatened trespassers with persecution)
Swashbuckling as a one eyed pirate  , I set forth
With a catapult I’d made
From a gaulyogue and thick tubing
I got in Maddens garage

Raced up the meadow where there was a sign
In gorey red  and crooked paint  warning of a dangerous bull
(And that trespassers would be persecuted )
That day I was invincible ; proud chested and indomitable i
Against the face of all ferocities

But today I stand before  a  shallow pool ,
On this same beach ,
With water streaming down the  strand
And now I look with great foreboding
At this terrifying stream to cross
Where dread and doubts skulk beneath the rocks
And I choke for breath at this pool’s edge
 Lest the water scorch my nose and  choke my throat at once

Take my pity-partying cloying  hand
Shamed , I’m shackled , tethered to my uncertainties
I see the  swirling perils of the stream
And the treachery that lurks in its dark pools
Today I’m riven by my doubts
But if for a moment I could be again
that carefree rambunctious fearless  far –away- boy
I would reach Reach up and rent the sky
And with my catapult would slay the 
Doubts ; the  vexations 
and  lay bare before me
all the bleak uncertainties

But when I turn about , my footprints
 Have been washed clean with incoming tide
As if I’d never been this way before

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