A fitting end for a tear-filled year,
a blue of spotless bright reflecting peace,
the lake in distant view a tranquil calm,
and thoughts of you like waves recede.
Brisk, I paced away from coastal winds,
whose frigid air gripped jacket tightly;
for all the quiet solemn walks provide,
a memory churned can more than match.
Tomorrow’s tide will still feel cold,
the lips as chapped from brine and breeze,
yet there is peace in waves again
as thoughts of you with tides recede.
Notes:
“I’m erasing myself from the narrative…”
T:21