storm at the beach

Yesterday the wind was wild at the beach (yes! it often is on Auckland’s west-coast beaches).

I used my poetry net and used my eyes and collected this poem as I ran:



The sea white

washed the sand with foam,

flosh flash flosh.


The sea took

driftwood and weeds

halfway up the dunes,

swash swish swash.


Molly chased the foam

and chewed the wood.

My feet were icy cold.


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