Poetry,+Long+Beach

=Long Beach, New York=

The cold breezes of the empty, gray ocean Brush against people’s bodies Making them shiver. Peaceful sounds of the crashing waves Colliding with the white, soft sand Fill the air. The warmth of my upside-down beach house Welcomes Taylor as she opens the fragile wooden door. The sweetness of the syrup on the cold, snow cones Drips from little children’s chins. Faint cries of seagulls howl with the lifeless wind. Pink blisters form on biker’s hands as they ride down the endless boardwalk. The ice cream vendor rushes around In the little ice cream shop Trying to please the children Queuing up with damp, sticky dollar bills. The warm tint of heat Reflecting the sun Warms up my forehead. Lemons are squeezed Juice oozes out and falls Onto the large, red lobsters. Peter’s Clam House The red post office Taylor’s house The dark, beautiful bay Childhood memories come back As I turn around And step into the car To Long Beach, New York.