Flight: Poem and Flash Prose

We wander along the dune crest,
following meandering sand lines,

wave markers; little holes, once bubbles
speckle the dune’s lake side.

With our bared feet the same size,
we leave almost matching footprints,

dry colored ones on the dark sand,
wet colored ones on the dry.

Further inland the dunes rise up,
a gentle clutter of congregating grass.

Our loose sweatshirts and jeans,
rolled up to mid-calf flap wildly.

The autumn breeze combs our hair,
caresses our faces,

fills our nostrils with the scent
of clean sand, fresh, clear water,

pushes the massed grey-tinged clouds
in streams across the reflected sky.

The great green-blue lake
lashes roaring three-foot waves.

We dodge them easily laughing,
as they lap gently at our ankles.

Stripe-necked sandpipers scatter
on chopstick legs, leaving mazes.

Herring gulls swirl above, glide
through invisible dance patterns,

dip abruptly to light
amidst the foamy waves.

We open our flapping sails to the breeze
to take it all in,

to pour ourselves all out,
to become grains of sand underfoot,

crystal jewels of sparkling foam,
almost imperceptible whirs of gulls’ wings.


OR


We wander along the dune crest, following meandering sand lines; little holes, once bubbles speckle the dune’s lake side. With our bared feet the same size, we leave almost matching footprints, dry colored ones on the dark sand, wet colored ones on the dry. Further inland the dunes rise up, a gentle clutter of congregating grass. Our loose sweatshirts and jeans flap wildly. The autumn breeze combs our hair, caresses our faces, fills our nostrils with the scent of sand and water, pushes the massed grey-tinged clouds across the sky. The great green-blue lake lashes roaring three-foot waves. We dodge them easily laughing. Stripe-necked sandpipers scatter on chopstick legs. Herring gulls swirl above, glide through invisible dance patterns. We open our flapping sails to the breeze, take it all in, pour ourselves all out, become grains of sand underfoot, crystal jewels of sparkling foam, almost imperceptible whirs of gulls’ wings.

[Does one version work better than the other? Each was published in a different literary journal, print and online.]