August 30, 2018 § Leave a comment
This warm presence nearby
trusts me enough to
at my side.
Placid, even breaths
measure the stretches of our time
On the crest of slumber, I hear
a soothing sound, as steady as waves.
When I, too, sink into the deep
our dreams will mingle like
sand and tide,
the tangled track of our waking days
Washed blank when spirits
meet and part
and bodies rest, touching.
August 27, 2005