polished piece of glass
sharp edges worn smooth
by elements - water, sand, and motion
rounded almost silky
in my palm
cool, hard, comforting
this glass
can't cut my flesh
anymore
time has made it
something changed
from what it was
© nan, 2016
Just a quick poem this evening as I think about the ocean, and beating waves, and warmth, and beach walking, barefooted. I like to think about time and change -- what we don't notice and then what we do. It is mid-February and cold where I live. It is a hard time in winter. In my previous jobs, I always managed to have to travel somewhere warm in February or March. No such luck this year or last - although I do have a little travel planned next month and in early April... it is for nowhere warm. This little poem popped up. Ciao.
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