Wednesday, May 9, 2012


I have been on the brink of this sink hole
so many times,
the clams know my name.

My feet are planted firmly,
but the sands shift--the water erodes the foundation,
the brim of which I am slowly falling over.

I hear the crashing of the waves,
the shrieking of the gulls,
and I feel myself slipping like quicksand.

I see the tide come in,
and wait for the release-- the cold cloak of ocean,
                                  salt and water
                            and sand,
                  and I feel myself drowning.

I want so badly
to succumb to the darkness,
close my eyes, and just sleep.

But I can hear the laughter of children playing,
and my lungs burn for air.
I'm not ready to go, yet.

I need to laugh and play and build sandcastles.
I need to run in the sun, catch waves,
and dive for sunken treasure.

I need to be a child again.
I need to live.

I open my eyes, and struggle--
I fight and kick with all my might,
and I resurface.

I gasp for air, dry my tears,
and dream of warmer days.



  1. Thanks for sharing this lovely piece of writing, Pippi.

  2. Wow, powerful heartfelt piece.