Literary Fiction poetry The Sea

Dare the Waves

By Lucy Gabriel
May 29, 2019 · 99 words · 1 minute

Photo by Sergei Akulich via Unsplash.

From the author: "Dare the Waves" was written in a workshop about the sculpture Sea Music, and published in the community anthology.


At seven
my plastic bucket is full
of stripes and swirls
made bright by sea water.
I chase waves
and build castles
that dry and crumble,
or are washed away by tide,
and build them again.

At seventeen
sandcastles are an exercise
in futility.
The shells have dulled
in a bowl on my windowsill
Too old for bucket and spade,
too self-conscious for swimsuits,
there's nothing to do
but sit in the sun
with sand disappearing
up my butt crack.

At twenty-seven
I only go when it's quiet,
after the crowds,
to walk barefoot in waves
that wet rolled up trousers.
Dog walkers nod and smile,
while I fill pockets with treasures
still damp with sand,
build free-form castles
and dare the waves to take them.


Lucy Gabriel

Lucy Gabriel writes poems about, well, everything.