Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Ravings of a Rabid Werewolf - Poetry by Wolf - 15. Wetsuit Brigade
The late October Santa Ana’s blow warm on my face
As the last bit of summer heat holds on with its tight grip.
The sun warmed sand is almost too hot for bare feet
Causing wetsuit clad bodies to rush towards the surf.
As if to apologies for the relentless heat when it should be cool,
Mother Nature has gifted her worshipers with beautiful waves.
My brothers and sisters of the water rejoice,
As we paddle our boards out through the crashing surf.
There is no searching this day for those elusive waves;
And we’re all thrilled being able to take our joyous rides.
One by one though our numbers begin to fall,
As a day of surfing finally comes to an end.
The wetsuit brigade bidding one last farewell
As we return command of the waves to the ocean.
- 11
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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