Sand
Photos and poem
It was some times ago, a British sky
came to visit. Who was I then?
Still a woman, still my body, still complaining and contemplating.
It was time ago, eleven of the wise were either fallen
on in hide. Under a changing blue, history unveiled
and the rock spoke in the same words
and tongue of the sea.
The smell of sand, and the defensive waves
all of it was in play for just one hour
of that one day. Some things always disappoint
people like me, others
cannot. I cannot force my sadness
I cannot always run back to the maze
I was ancestrally taken from.
And maybe one day I’ll stop
taking all these pictures, all the time, from all the angles
and maybe that day
I’ll stop, sit, and relax
I’ll be able to breathe from my tummy. Maybe
maybe….maybe. For now, here the photos I took
that day, now one year ago, or more:
P.S. I wrote the poem to fit the photos, and imho there might be something to go from there. I usually don’t change my poems much, but with this one I might one day. So it can stand alone, like the only Apostle we were able to see that day.
