I'm awokenby the near-deafening sound
of the lighthouse fog horn,
as if the sun sent me a wake-up call
so that I could rise with it simultaneously.
Through my open window
the fresh salt air
is pushed into my nose and lungs
by the winds from the breath of the ocean.
I hear what sounds like a low murmur of pre-movie theater chatter of seagull caws
outside my window.
I look out over the water
and see the waves of high tide crashing against the jetty.
As the perfectly blended colors of the sunrise flood my vision,
I smile because I know that I am home.
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC
I'm awokenby the near-deafening sound
of the lighthouse fog horn,
as if the sun sent me a wake-up call
so that I could rise with it simultaneously.
Through my open window
the fresh salt air
is pushed into my nose and lungs
by the winds from the breath of the ocean.
I hear what sounds like a low murmur of pre-movie theater chatter of seagull caws
outside my window.
I look out over the water
and see the waves of high tide crashing against the jetty.
As the perfectly blended colors of the sunrise flood my vision,
I smile because I know that I am home.