I rest
with the little waves.
My feet are sore and feeling heavy
a happy heavy, an earned heavy,
these waves have traveled a lifetime.
We surge together, side by side
blood flushes with the swelling tide
then down,
back down,
down for both our sakes’.
We ebb and flow
and contemplate magnitude,
hand in hand, soul in soul
with softened gazes
a tall sense of justice.
My zest for the sun is greatest
when I can hear the distant thunder.
I write
because the sky
so blue
is right here, above me.
The waves, so soft
right here, beyond me,
and I don’t know what to do with my breath—
Three cheers for the well-timed motorbike masquerading as “distant thunder”
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