Rebecca Allen ‘25
Staff Writer
We walked around
With iced drinks in
The breezy Californian winter:
I thought of
When we danced in
The tides
Right off the
Pacific Coast Highway,
Scurrying like crabs
In the surf
And then the sunset:
Watching as it sunk below
The ocean with
Our glasses off.
Our hair as weightless
In the wind and we climbed
To the top of a hill
And looked at the
Fog rolling in
While crows circled.
We talked about
Pioneers and a
Cambodian nun
Who rode a motorcycle.
And we laughed all the way
Up the hills,
Getting lost easily.
Image Source: Doug Steakley
