Like the Ice

Some say it’s the wind that brings us together

in pieces

battered and broken.

Here it is we gather –

wherever “here” is, I suppose.

I can’t find fullness

but I can see the colors

of the evening sky mesh

blue to purple to pink to orangish;

without the clouds it’s like they are all one.

So completed.

So absolute.

But it comes too early.

And… wait!

I was only away for a moment

and already the world has turned dark.

It’s too early.

How can it come together,

so perfectly,

for only just a moment?

Can we, too, do the same this eve?

Let the wind bring our broken selves

to this corner of the sea

where at least we won’t be alone

for a while.



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