Last Wave

A new crescent moon
over a palmetto tree
a sea as still
as a sea can be
on the horizon the sun
peeks over a low bank of clouds
to bring splendid colors
back to the morning world

On a Georgia beach
watching the Carolina flag
come to life
but the ocean has
its own state of mind
gave it the ashes of my heart
too long ago
I come back when I can
to see if they have advice
for the pieces of my soul

Like broken shells
thrown on the sand
by the mission’s last wave
driftwood waiting to be
repurposed, waiting for a tide
high enough to carry us on
a new journey

With no answer at hand
I turn back inland
to the grey routine
which sustains the quest
secure in the knowledge
that the magic exists
hopeful that the answer
may be forthcoming


2 thoughts on “Last Wave

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