Riding the wave.
Hoping not to drown.
The sea is my enemy.
Can you lift me up to the cloud?
Spoken non-whispers.
No room here to grow.
Legs no longer paddle.
Send me out a raft and a row.
Calling out an SOS.
Can anyone hear my cry?
The shore awaits
the sand embrace.
But only birds can fly.
If I had a pair of wings,
I’d pop out head over water.
Yet fluttered arms and hands will do.
Continuing only to wander
———–
by Kristin Bach
Copyright 2013
savor with me 