The cliff imprinted on me as I lay
Spread out, lethargic, tanning on the bay.
I rolled to examine its rougher side
Sparkles flitted under the sun and my eye.
Young rocks rumbled like a river to the shore
One almost but not quite the same as before.
I wished to be thrashed in the wind and sea
Broken off then returning to what’s the same as me.
It’s crazy, peculiar and don’t you find it odd?
I thought I said “I should start finding God.”
Your donation will support the student journalists of Hofstra University. Your contribution will allow us to purchase equipment and cover our annual website hosting costs.
| Kumba Jagne is a junior journalism major and creative writing minor. She is an editor for the Hofstra Chronicle Multimedia section and writes for the news, features and opinion sections. Outside of The Chronicle, she is a campus photographer and social media manager for the Queer and Trans People of Color Coalition. |
