On the Shoreline

Poetry by | August 17, 2008

You may
not
see
the raft,
buoying
in the ocean,
but you
can feel
the waters,
rippling
on the edges
of your feet.

If your hands
suffer from
the coldness
of the breeze,
just cup
these waters
and it will
carry you
to a white distance,
where I am
lost,
sailing
against the wind
of my departure.

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