no one sees you,
let the ebb tide lead.
Nothing you need is
missing--close your
umbrella and look up,
count the salty stars.
The ringing in your ears
may be singing or
the pear-shaped tones
of distant bells. Only
shifting night will tell
your secrets, let them
trickle and puddle
at your feet, ripples
kissing your ankles.
Draw the thread of
dreams, embroider
every lonesome night,
and in time arrive
where someone waits
to see you home.
So easy, that, and yet
more beautiful to roam.
(c) 2013, by Hannah Six
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