The Swell







Lines on the horizon.
Stacked in sets of twos and threes.
Rolling toward shore.

Young men running to the sea.
Focused. Intense. Smiling.

Lines on the horizon.
Pounding shorebreak.
Thump. Thump. Thump.

Smell of board wax, taste of salt.
Excitement in the air.

Lines on the horizon.
The ocean pulsating and alive.
Men and women reborn.

Scratching, climbing over breaking waves.
Rainbows in ocean spray.

Lines on the horizon.
Paddle. Paddle. Glide.
Catching the pulse of the ocean.

Board and wave beneath my feet.
Riding a wave of joy and ecstasy.

Lines on the horizon.
Santa Cruz. Monterey Bay.
The fall swell arrives.









© 2012, Dr. Jeff Howlin. All rights reserved.

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2 Responses to The Swell

  1. Ira Katz says:

    Dr. Howlin- “The Swell” was more than a swell poem. I could actually smell the sea salts and feel the gentle breeze. Beautifully composed and well done. Came at a right moment for me to calm my own internal seascape. Thanks.


    • Dr. Howlin says:

      I’m glad that you liked the poem Ira. The last few weeks have been beautiful here with some good surf, and it inspired me to compose a poem about the experiences. I hope you have a good week.


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