as the
rinroe
rings the
world
in sand
I hold
your hand
not for
the last
but for
the first
time
as Blacksod
lamp casts
forth its
light
and seaborne
clouds
caress
the dawn
you search
for food
along the shore
where ancient
rocks and
silvered
sand slip
through the
hands and
mussel beds
of blue
and blackest
hue
give to
me
as
me
to you
the lustre
of the
new

08/14/2006

Posted on 08/14/2006
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