Drifting

Some day soon-
when we have nothing left
to say,
-while gulls hover and caw-
we might scavenge the shores
for bits of dropped sandwiches,
crumbs from families on holiday.

Looking away from broken branches
spooning just below the water line
of last season’s storms,
we might see the sun rise
over the copper and green tree tops.

Dancing in the unconquered sun,
we would unfold and float
out to meet one another
among the water lilies
-if the fates allowed.

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