It was a blue
without end
an opening greater
than the sky
a place I touched
sand and rocks
I walked on
its where I could run
when running away
to hide in plain sight
while all other sounds
were blocked out
except the waves
I was a spot on the
shoreline
waiting to be pulled in
never to be disappointed
by its appearance
or it in mine
I’ll never be the same
nor do I want to be
Roger Singer 