I left the comfort of my youth with a sense of little ease,
how they taunted and tried to drown you in whispering seas
transformed violently into torrents; a frothing, foamy crowd,
and when hysteria snaked through, they waved and cried aloud –
but the song of yours was a song (a prayer) that washed ashore
like a desperate note in a bottle, as out of some folklore,
where pebbles and summer love and lustrous pearls
hiding in oyster shells, dance on the sand and truth unfurls,
and in that moment of my youth, I glimpsed a love so rare,
skim the crest of the waves, skip lightly away without a care.


(inspired by Humbert Wolfe’s beautiful poem, Denmark )

4 thoughts on “Summer

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