Beach Stones

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lying in perfect patterns
you crunch beneath my feet
and she knows that i am coming

i walk slowly
listening as the waves lap against the shore
shading the sun from my eyes
it is hot
and sweat rolls down my back

are you reading?
she shakes her head
and i sit beside her in the shade
are you still singing?
sometimes, she answers
not enough

what would make it enough?
i ask
freedom, she answers

we stand together
and walk slowly into the water
up to our necks
wearing our clothes

i look up
a bird flies overhead

do you think the birds are free?, i ask
she looks at me
and answers
yes.

 

 

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donateĀ click here.

Art

Mountains


Art is beauty for more than the sake of itself
When the form and the essence marry
And truth becomes visible

Art depends as much on the audience as the artist
Words can be lost
Symmetry unseen

Harmony can be felt
Hearts can be opened
There can be Rhythm

It takes two to tango.

So look up as you walk down the street
Where is the color? Where is the light?

The bright eyes of a child
Small birds chattering in city shrubs
Music drifting out of a basement window
The mountains in the distance

Pause.

All art needs is an audience.