February 20, 2008 at 6:41 AMAlone, a deserted beach.
Uneven and scattered
Like the jagged bits of sand that dot the shoreline.
A looking glass,
Seen but not touched.
Distant and forgotten
A mirrored image back in time.
The sun sets
Blues, reds, oranges, purples
Endlessly they melt into one another
Blurred like watercolors.
A new palette is revealed.
The stars shimmer, seamlessly
Tiny beacons reveal the lonely docks.
Solitary, the albatross swims by,
A longing call let out
Unreturned, he swims on
Searching, it's not how he remembers.
Joe, interesting to see your interpretation of the poem as missing someone. It wasn't what I had in mind when I wrote it.
This entry has been archived and is no longer accepting comments.
Violinist.com is made possible by...
Discover the best of Violinist.com in these collections of editor Laurie Niles' exclusive interviews.