Forty Feet Above the Sea

I stare from a small wall

Forty feet above the sea

It stands as a lonely sentinel

Protecting the unsuspecting

From an ugly plunge to a beautiful

Rugged boulder-strewn beach.

The merciless surf

Pounds unyielding jagged rocks

The latter gives no quarter

Breaking up the attack

Forcing even the mightiest waves

To eventually retreat

Regroup then strike again.

I never tire of experiencing

Such epic battles.

Though it seems the rocks

Win each day,

The waves are patient,

Unrelenting.

It seems only a matter of time,

Eons perhaps,

Before the waves win,

Grind the great boulders

Into tiny grains of sand.

But perhaps instead

Several centuries from now

The sea may recede,

Surrendering at least for a time.

Then the boulders

Will reclaim their brethren

From the briny depths.

I think such thoughts

And wonder at the spectacle

As I stand at a small wall

Forty feet above the sea

Knowing I will be long dead and gone

Returned to my own ashes and dust

Before the answer

As to which will be the victor

Is revealed.

With Love,

Russ

© Copyright 2016 Russ Towne

All Rights Reserved

Tags: poem, poems, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writing, poets, poets corner, shore, struggle, writing, writing poetry