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Early Swim

I cannot believe I wrote this in 1998, my senior year of high school. It is a simple poem. The writing assignment that spawned this little ditty was a class walking trip to the bay side of Duxbury Beach. Each member of the class brought their notebook and were instructed to spread out on a small beach and write something about our surroundings. Many of the students took this as an opportunity to just hang out and not write at all. Others wrote plainly about what they observed about the water or shoreline. I did neither. Instead, I looked out and saw this shelter with a man-made pier attached. I saw a man come out of the home or boathouse, retrieve something on the pier and go back inside. I decided he was my angle; he was the vehicle that would help convey my show and tell of this bay side beach. 
Though an expository writing course, I decided to write this in poem form. This piece gave me great confidence about my self, my writing, and critical thinking skills during a rather bleak time.
I hope you enjoy this piece.
  
An Early Swim
A man by the sea
Comes out of his house
Yawns,
Stretches his arms
To the morning sky.
Around him gulls
Swoop, glide,
Cry
Making the only sound for miles.
His silent, blue shack,
Seems to sleep
While the ocean
Nearby
Teems with life.
The dock
Lying before him
worn and tired
as if part of the world around him,
stretches to the sea.
Splash
He jumps and hits water.
Water as far as his eyes can see
At this time of the day.
The dock shakes
Sways
Trembles,
An earthquake
Shattering the once placid sea.

 

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