GRIEF

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Submitted Date 09/24/2019
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I remember,

 

September rains rolled in.

Surreptitious lashings on glass.

 

I've taken these waves for granted.

The solitude of a beached whale

or an abandoned baby seagull

Waiting.

Belly damp on sand.

Brine weighing her feathers into the surf.
Beak pointing west.

I wait until the waves begin to push her.

move
I watch.

 

A waddle.

The desperate wave of underdeveloped wings.

I turn away toward the sandpipers, they dash

east, west, east, west
enough of a distraction for me to stomach my departure

without ever looking back.

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  • Rick Doble 2 months, 1 week ago

    We all have to walk away sometimes -- it is one of life's hardest lessons.