rising with the breath
to sit in between that one
and the next
a conversation
born in the swell
under the wide evening sky
nothing to hold
wind through my fingers
the day rests on the horizon
slipping beneath the rolling sea
your words land
like the crashing waves
on jagged rock worn by years
between who I was and am
morning brings the same
as waves touch the shore
shaping the sand
stone stands in salute
to the passing light
drawing long shadows
to greet the ocean's return
~
day 4
national poetry month
