Posted in PEACE GROOVES, The Sunday Driver: Life in the Slow Lane


oh the stuff i collect
like a storm washed beach
refuse from the everyday

until i am so weighed down
i do not realize that i
am or that i don’t need to be

reflection like the rising
sun above the waters
brings these pieces to light and i can begin to
let them go

the gentle waves will clear my broken shores
if i but open my heart
to listen

the palms carress the sky
the shadows begin their rise
in the distance
a ship vanishes into the
light of the morning

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.