Photo by Todd Trapani on Pexels.com


A rush of blood roars to life
The sound of a crashing wave
Sand colored hair whipping into steel eyes

Is that your voice whispering across the water?

Flat stones slide and stutter over one another.
Disturbed by my bare footfalls.
Their cold bite waking me.

Is that your face on the wind?

Fog rolls in
Wringing the air from my lungs.
I wade further into the lake.

I swear I can feel your hand in mine.

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