home from the seaside

back home from the seaside
sand runs through my fingers like

so

many

days

waves licking at my bare
feet:
ebb
and flow,
the tidal waters rise
and fall

contourless
we lie under the bluer sky
only the horizon draws
a line
between here
and there.

who makes the waves,
and the seagulls cry
and the wind in my hair
chasing clouds across
sky, marshland, your face & mine

back home from the seaside
sand running through my fingers

so many lives