The moon sets bright as

thin lines march from the crisp horizon

toward surfers playing faster

than tunes sung by a gull.

 

Slipping and slashing

they trade their tears

for a fast paced

backside beach break .

 

A single session sends

hatred under the bridge,

while winds of change

sweep clean a

purely present breath.

 

First find one,

then another.

 

PS.  Inspiration to write c/o Run Towards Each Other by Katherine Riegel