each passing day

February 21, 2018 by Michael Guerin

if i could sit by the sea
with an eye on the tide

rolling slowly in wave
after foaming blue wave

would i be able to savor
each moment passing by

or would my mind wander
off once again like a kite

left behind and lost on
a breeze the string trailing

in its wake as it sails
awkwardly away on warm

eddies of air headed for
some foreign shore or faint

horizon or perhaps catches
a downdraft and suddenly

plummets nose-ward into
blue grey swells so far

from the reach of children
chasing gulls on the beach?

poet, dreamer, writer, speaker, intuitive empath. labels never reach the heart of any matter, but they can be a place to start...

between black & white