Goodnight

It was fleeting…

A feather at the top of my head – or was it my forehead? – that made my protests die down with the scurrying crowd of retirement.

Calming –

as the waves assault the wall of the concrete boulevard,

It wasn’t the usual fire dance, or dreamlike snippets, or silly CPRs

– Intoxicating,

yet morphed into a moment of pure

love;

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s