moving through…

i like to use the water to think . the sound . the rush . the wings . the hush

the birds set among the thrush of brushed bush

to smell the breeze as it flows in me . the salt, the tinge, the rocks and sea

to see the algae bloom and turn a crimson sand

resting on the sand as if on bed, to think of love, the sky, the stead

to think of you as you think of me . upon the land . upon the sea

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