Summer Series
you wake to the sound of the water hitting the shore
the sun slowly rises above the horizon
birds sing their morning songs
the smell of burnt wood and hotdogs still clings to your hair and clothes
in the bottom of your sleeping bag the sand still scratches on your feet
the scent of fresh morning dew lingers in the air
drops of water are still sitting clinging onto the roof of your tent
you watch them slowly bead off
you take pleasure in knowing that there is no other place to be but right here
and slowly stretch your arms above your head and take in a deep breath


the laughter from the evening before rings in your ears