Rockweed Lael Sanders ’26 the beach is studded with pebbles discarded crab claws bits of coral and i can’t find my footing over the yellow-green seaweed my knuckles scrape against the rocks one last chance to hold on and the maine wind-chill is too grey for me strange i was made for this kind of weather standing on the boulder letting my hair frizz i, alone with the waves who do i need to impress? my mom stands still by the shore turned away there’s water in her eyes or maybe it’s just the sun 24
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