13 julie lynne surfhenge

surfhenge

by julie lynne conradi

falling off
into the salt water
cold
seagulls over my head
the smell is sweet
my favorite in the world,
a mix
of rotting wood,
of seagulls,
of dead fish,
of salt
i climb back on
my white long board
paddle out
to where i can't touch the floor
here comes a wave
catch it
kneel,
one foot in front of another
stand up,
shaking
wind in my hair
i make it
to shore
i head back out to the water
the only sound to hear
is my yell
celebrating
the self-victory
of the early hours