on egg shells
we walk through the skythe blue of robin's egg
with candyfloss clouds
above the hurricane
below us a flicker
a tiny sail defiantly hoisted
tacking close to the solar wind
of a new morning
we walk through the sky
surefooted
the seaward pull of newly hatched turtles
no sure end to the path
but the route was set
when you told me
and I told you
and it'll all be right
Poetry by Katarina Wikholm
Read 767 times
Written on 2016-09-06 at 19:39
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Lawrence Beck |
