... poetry ...

waVes

dampening fast, hold the billowing

skies…ebb and flow from in and without

scraping across the sandy flow even still,

i grow, from beneath the loving wake.

knowing not from whence from where

gasping bubbles entrance and flutter past

the still knowing apparition of sight

and sound breathing in this dungeon lake.

it will not know to stop or grow

from above all is but a swirling

world of green and blue splashes sprinkled

white by the salty spray of chance and hope.

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