The line where land ends and seas part
ways, part as friends, as simple movements
mean less…more…but always a divide
between here and there; she feels the
grit of the morning…sand and shells and
time worn thin by repetition—to be
grown and birthed again and again
each day each moment a minor memory
warmth and life and sideways glances
to make sure eyes see past dreams.
She poses seeing a shadow…her…in
unison, in time she feels the strength of
fluid motion of momentary stillness all
connected in short frames, small steps
toward an end unseen, unfelt, unheard…
and waited for…the stillness an illusion
simply time between breaths, between
raindrops between her toes the sand
lets the water fall away…back toward
the line where land ends and seas part
where a relaxed sun reaches out with love
and generosity and takes her hand.

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