Moody chatter from a wild lightning storm by the sea on September 16. Weather worn and sea sick on land.
I miss the places I’ve never been
and the strangers I’ve always loved
but never told.
I write letters that I don’t send.
Sink them in ocean,
sleep with the windows open
and dry out summer flowers.
I am moving beyond the bounds
with tangled heart strings.
Because to trust, is to remember.