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A poem written while contemplating the waters of Tampa Bay

Submitted:Apr 15, 2011    Reads: 37    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   

There seems to be a silence in the air,

as thick as smoke and just as oppressive.

Somehow, I am comforted.

The sand looks so enticing from here and so does

the water that laps softly on the shore.

They say the water is bad for you.

The sun caresses my pale skin

as if to try and coax me out of this

mood I am in - nothing ever could.

Endless balconies and no one to enjoy the view.

One soliarty soul, breathing the air -

and it's me.

The sky is still cloudy from a recent rain

and the distance is still shaded by the haze

but the golden sunlight is beginning

to play on the crisp, sparkling waves

and dapple the sand, making it glow.

Feeling a touch of loneliness, I lean over

the white aluminium railing and smile -

there's the old familiar tingle in my feet.

I think, if only I could freeze

this moment in time,

and, as if on cue, a door opens and voices

break the stillness and startle me.

Below me, a family arranges themselves around

the pool and assume the sunbathing position.

The magic spell has been broken

and all is as it should be.


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