poetry, Uncategorized

Hands that Drift

I drifted on my hands

And worked them in the ocean

Grinding feet into the sand

And hoping for a motive

While the wood drifted

The birds drifted

The leaves drifted

On top that ocean surface

I drifted on my hands

In the salty waters

Grinding my feet

Until the water stung

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2 thoughts on “Hands that Drift

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