The light is low,
and your eyes are
settled on some unknown distance.
I listen to the waves,
waiting for something.
I’m not sure what,
it could be anything.
You hold my hand
and I hold yours,
like I am leaving.
Between the sky,
and the sea below,
everything
that means anything
is with me.
That’s when you finally turn
and look at me;
your eyes so deep,
that I think I might fall for miles
into their dark mystery.
We stare at each other,
our mouths slightly open,
as if to speak,
but there are no sounds coming.
I don’t think I could speak,
even if I could find the words.
Somewhere to the Northwest,
thunder rolls,
and the wind begins to blow.
Cold.
The quickly moving clouds
begin their march
across the horizon.
We are holding each other, now.
Holding tight,
and the warmth between us
feels good,
with that cold wind blowing.
Feels like love.
Feels protected.
Feels like
we might make it through this
for a little while.
We settle back
in our little seat
on the porch that faces west,
and we watch the ocean.
Angry waves,
and the first drops of rain.
This is not our first storm,
and it will not be
our last.
HG – 2019
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