Feel the Wave

Drop anchor in the kiddie pool,

brimming with illustrious liquid gold,

too shallow for laps, or dives,

just perfect to sit for a while,

and contemplate all the changing tides,

from beaming sunrise to ominous dusk,

how to fit together when both stuck in ruts,

your feet grazing mine at the center,

I hope you will always remember our clutch,

and the tidal current we set off in March,

overwhelming as the seasons punch,

there is only ever one shot at floating on,

and now mine is all but dead and gone.

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