“At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.”- Plato
“Love is crazy, mad, and wonderful” –
Here I am waiting. The sun setting slow, moving my shadow, from a bench I sit on– alone. I remember the last we were here, we were a couple, of puerile joy, spirited, we laughed and held hands. My heart was so warm. Now, it is cold. The night unfolds a beauty mending broken feelings as I wait for the moon.
sunlight reaching shore
sea waves drifting to and fro
baby turtles crawl.