Wistful Wandering

Waves lapping the shore with a salty tongue
Licking the wounds of Autumn
Echoes of laughter, ‘when we were young’
Fireflies and stardom

An albatross calls but nobody answers
Leave a message at the tone
Wind directs black sand leafy dancers
On a stage of pitted stone

Driftwood hopes washed up by the tide
Scattered around my toes
In the solace of pages no longer abide
Learning what silence knows

Took a walk here to the breaking point
Of surf and self delusion
Because the ocean does not disappoint
Like your words of soft illusion


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