Winter surfing at sunset Off the California coast the golden sun is cold
riding the lip of the earth. The wind drops
to just a whisper of tomorrow's storm,
in the lavendered east a twist of new moon hangs.
A shadow slips out of the sun
and I catch it. Standing as if on a rollicking train,
I make a run for the shore
slicing the wave in half.
Peeling the wet suit off
it rolls down my body in shivering lurches
gathering like black bark about my feet,
my limbs white as a birch.
As I dry off in the hopping cold
watching the sea turn pewter,
dolphins rise and fall, heading south.
– Mike Hedrick