Image by mikebaird via Flickr

Image by mikebaird via Flickr

Quiet, do you hear?

The wind blowing over the lonesome pier.

The waves crack at the shore,

and all the shells galore.

Shoes in hand,

with toes squishing in the sand.

The lonesome wind blows through my hair,

seeming to hug each strand with care.

Up ahead I see the pier.

The same one  that I see every year.

I have always wanted to take a walk

down its winding curves,

but every time I try

I am nothing more than a bundle of nerves.

This time I am going to do it.

Water gushes over the pier floor.

As I walk further down

I can hear the waves roar.

I am a bit shaken, but do continue

until I reach the very end,

right into the whipping wind.

How exciting, yet scary.

The waves are getting kind of hairy.

I feel empowered,

having succeeded in this feat -

each time the waves crack and then repeat.

I turn back in high spirits,

for I am pleased that I got to share in it.

Maybe the next time the sound I hear

will be from a happy pier,

the sound of the whipping wind,

will be a peaceful friend,

and the waves cracking with their roar,

will be calm forever more.