By: Isabel Didrickson

Santa Cruz

He succeeds,
Rising on the face
Of the blue-green wall.

The gray-blue ocean
Met the misty blue sky,
I detected no movement

Closer to shore,
I saw a gradual swell.
Gently it rose and fell
Gliding towards its destination.

Eager youths, in the water
Watch with me. Waiting, waiting
For the perfect, precise moment.
The edge.

They paddle wildly, then
try to balance on the board.
Underneath the canopy
Of curling water,
Gliding for a brief moment
Along the wall, until
Billows of white foam
Obliterate the body.

At the same time
I hear
the roar
Of the breaking wave
Enveloping my senses
With its grandeur.

The foam floods to the shore
Fills my shoes.
I dash for higher ground
The water retreats.
Leaving bits of debris
From unknown places.

For several minutes
I gaze as more waves
Break and roar.
The force of the water
Is tremendous, but yet
It only comes so far.
We both know our boundaries.

Isabel Didriksen
2003