the waves crash on the rocky shore, imitating a rolling drumbeat.
the seagulls above call to their flock, their glottal sounds like tuning instruments.
eyes closed, ears open.

a conch shell held to one’s ear presents a voice clear and warm,
an opera singer held captive by the earth.

the sand between my toes fills me with disgust –
hatred not for the beach but for the anxiety it gives me.

a deep breath in… and out.
the beach has disappeared, and I’m left with an orchestra –
an orchestra playing the earth’s infinite symphony.

~ Abby Theberge
Avenue A High School Writing Club Member