by Ed Higgins
1. Walking here
with you
on these narrow
strands
of clean air
& imagination
only.
2. Delight entering
despite sorrows
that already
call us
away.
3. Eased by
this rising moon,
the tide's darkening
stain surges
onto wet
waiting sand
thrust inward
toward the yielding
reluctant shore.
4. Tentative, at first,
this receding
inflowing discourse
of wave and
cleft-split rock:
5. The ambiguous edge
barely perceptible
now against
the sea's
widening urge.
The surf out there
like a pulse quickened
to the heart.
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In BlueHouse Journal, Meredith Grace Thompson, Editor-in-Chief, issue #5, Jan., 2022, https://www.bluehousejournal.com/issue-5#cleft-split-rock
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Love this.
Delight and sorrows. Beautiful poem.
Like Dianne, I love this and that the word "beach" does not appear.
Thanx for reading/nice comments, folks.
enjoyed
*.
;)