Friday, May 27, 2011

Ebb and Flow

Bare at the shore's edge...
Water floods our goosebumps,
pulls the sand from beneath us...
Headiness, spinning
a lovely rapture.

... then the yearning
unembraced for a moment
impatient with time
We anticipate the next wave,
to heal the gradual unbearable

Never will it be the same...
never leaving the same traces on the shore,
always leaving us stranded in cold wet sand.

But there will be another...
the next...
always another...
to replace the one who left,
and the one we left behind.