Saturday, September 3, 2011

The Beach

Majestic red rocks rise
Glistening in the morning like flesh
We part their folds as we explore the gorge
Rock hopping like wallabies
Until we find the waterhole of choice
A crystal clear pool bounded by bright cliffs
And ghost gums, brolgas in the higher branches
Eyeing us wary as we strip off and splash
In the cold mineral tang, a balm on our dry skin
We emerge dripping on warm stone
Sun drying us with its towel-like reach
We are as children, naked and unashamed
This morning our pristine beach

© shaun patrick green 2011

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