Life in L.A.


Chilly, cold, bright.

So many colors!

A dark glittering ocean, glowing sand.

A colorful ferriswheel, spinning, swirling, exploding.

Pillars of blue and brilliant gold,

City lights shining everywhere I go.


The sky has its own shade of blue

You don't get anywhere else.

The sun beats down and warms everything

People walk along the beach,

Sketching and writing in the sand with their toes.

The ocean,

Suprisingly, doesn't smell like oceans do.

I took the deepest breath I could, but it still didn't register.

No salt, no fish.

But there were whitecaps,

Emerging from the blue like ghosts,

Nothing there, but then a great white wall coming toward me.

Leaping at my feet, wanting to take me under.

The beach,

Warm sand at my feet,

Swallowing my toes.

I dig holes, deeper and deeper and deeper,

Finding shells and rocks,

Closer to the water, little animals can be found.

Tiny, colourful mussels are washed up on the sand,

They grab at the ground with little slimy arms,

Trying to stay  on the beach.

When the water disapears, they all turn on end

And race underground.

Pop, pop, pop,

all that's left are little holes.

I like to walk on the beach.

Being land-locked doesn't do much for me.

I follow the receding waves back to the ocean.

They chase me back.

The water is faster than me,

and I often cannot outrun it.

It licks my toes with an icy tongue.

And all I do is smile and laugh.

The End

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