Keri

For my final project, I'm writing a poem based on somewhere on every continent. I need help editing! Especially if you've been to any of the places before, you would be a great help to get a good feel of where I'm writing about. But please help me with anything you can. Thanks!

Bondi Beach**﻿**, Australia**.**

Waves tug from side to side Currents pull me left to right, But still No one seems to move. Time freezes as the warm wind blows And blue beneath my board forms white caps Collapsing on the clean sand. Sitting and watching, I sway Crowds before me wait In clear sunlight. Roars from dark below Make me begin my journey Back to the crowd Where my bright life lies And I move once again.

Neko Harbor, Antarctica.

First yelps of black and white Leave the slippery topaz rocks. Squeals burst from below And she is proud of her children. Motherhood— She has done it. The smile of her beak Glistens in the cool breeze She feels warm on the inside. Watching her babies tangled in each other She is blessed. All of her children have learned well. They are the brightness In her dark, cold journey.

New York City, USA.

New York is lights, cameras, action Wealthy, poor, in between. New York is loud and chaotic; Traffic and horns, swarms of people Singing and dancing. New York is full of opportunities, Office buildings, cardboard boxes, internships Flashing billboards and dark alley ways New York is homeless and cold Heartless, fragile. Dirty instruments, Hats filled with spare change. New York is tourists— Cameras, shopping, wandering lost. Museums, theatres, wax people, flashy shows. Crowded with taxis, Men, women, children, Food, light, sound, Change in pockets, rats, newspapers. Subways lie in the depth of the streets New York is dirty. Penn Station, wet paper, dirty floors. There are concerts and movies, Bridges, tunnels, and apartments. New York is fun and exciting Lively, fruitful, and crazy. New York City: c’est la vie.

Kenya, Africa. Dry plains rest beneath a bronze sunset where children dance and chant with their mothers and fathers. An acacia tree sprouts to the left Looking over the ceremony below. Drifting over dust and dirt Little cracked feet jump and twist To the beat of drums Shaking the horizon with jubilation The fire burns with beautiful splendor Throwing light against the surrounds Bringing the children together in harmony Animals of the plains Listen to the celebrations And fall to sleep with peaceful resonance