We leave the drive and turn to the beach. <br />The tune of the tires on the dark hot road. <br />Pulling us away from the cold gloom of the woods. <br />Being bathed in the sun of the pristine sea. <br />In the red Mustang the paint gleams bright and blinding. <br />As we leave the forest of the pines tall and shading. <br />The sound of small chirping birds hidden in the needles, <br />To the screeching and cawing of the white and black seagulls. <br />The sauna like steam warm and heavy in the air. <br />As we get out and walk barefoot through the wet, soft, sand, <br />The grains clumping and squishing in between our toes. <br />As a wave crashes against the shore the sea breeze hits our faces. <br />As we walk down the beach we pass by a old dock, <br />The pylons all old and antique mineralized by the beat of the sea. <br />Cliffs coming up to mark our return trip it's now time to get back. <br />We turn around nature runs from the woods to the sea.<br /><br />Zachary Clark<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-the-woods-to-the-sea/
