Bristol Beach
When we laughed and cried with the moon.
The drinks at the bar were expensive and watered down,
But we still tipped the person making them.
The karaoke blaring was obnoxiously too loud,
But it was much too early to head home;
It's a Cape Cod Summer for Jaw's sake!
Something we seem to hold dearer to our hearts
As our bodies drift further away from the arm we call "home."
Instead, we stopped by the packie to pick up more poison,
We drove through the tourist-riddled streets,
And we found peace and quiet by the jetty at Bristol Beach.
The Vineyard lights shone like stars on the water
And the clouds listened as we talked into the night.
They ebbed and flowed with our conversations, heavy and light, alike,
Opening up only to show us the moon when we deserved her presence.
The sounds of the waves were in sync with our heartbeats
Beating the sand gently, tucking it in goodnight.
Eventually, it lulled us to sleep too.
I kept a few grains of sand between my toes for safekeeping,
A reminder of the secrets we shared and a bond that grew stronger.
About the Creator
Ashley Lima
I think about writing more than I write, but call myself a writer as opposed to a thinker.
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Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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More stories from Ashley Lima and writers in Poets and other communities.
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis7 days ago in Humans
Comments (8)
Those last 8 lines are stunning! You are so good at writing about where you’re from, bringing your readers there. Your writing is a sensory experience.
I like this one. It has a vividness that can only be known through experience, and you translate that well for someone who has never been to that place.
This line reminded of a song by Dar Williams, "Callling the Moon": Opening up only to show us the moon when we deserved her presence. But my favorite lines are the last two. It felt like a story that ended on a perfect note.
Oh wow, so nice, so beautiful. Actually made me miss home and simple summers. Really loved this!
Awwww!!@ This is fabulous!!! Loving ir!!!♥️♥️💕
This is great! Just wondering, are you by chance in New England? I grew up there and know what a packie is. I just haven't heard it much since I left MA.
Aww. Definitely need more of these
☺️✨I loved these magical little moments - ones we need more of. Thanks for sharing Ashley.