Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Between friends and enemy , the stranger...

Wriggly toes,
My feet in warm sand
I find a stranger’s trail

Footsteps, keen and deep,
Etched with moist tears of the sea ,
Glass bottles and mossy bread crumbs.
I walk by this new absence.
The feet seem large,
But the strides match.

Not for long.
Between friends and enemy
The stranger.
The waves have claimed
A momentary companion.
They’ve spared me.

Maybe next time,
I will follow.

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