Reusing this lovely image.
On that empty shore
where glassy waves ever break
gulls call, I answer.
Raising white wings I follow
with a backward glance for you.
Reusing this lovely image.
On that empty shore
where glassy waves ever break
gulls call, I answer.
Raising white wings I follow
with a backward glance for you.
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Oh, that backward glance! Adds so many possibilities to these lovely lines.
I’ve written too many poems about following and longing to catch up with x. I thought I’d do one about going forward and leaving x behind.
Beautiful, Jane. I like the glassy waves and the backward glance.
Thank you, Merril 🙂
I read this as a beautiful description of death – and that’s meant to be a positive observation
Any leaving is a sort of death, isn’t it? Thanks for reading that into it, it’s an idea of death that appeals to me.