sylviasearcher

Passed

Time ebbs away like a dust into the silence
Until all that is left to mark its existence are the sands once shifted when she ached across the shore
And as you walk across the very same sands she graced
And watch her recede far beyond the horizon


You try to tell yourself
The waves will reach you once more
With the next magnetic tug of the moon
But those waters that rush back to greet you
They are new waters
And the way they feel
Is never quite the same as your memory


And so you realise
Like time
She is always passing
And you wonder whether to mourn her
Or celebrate her
As you continue your walk across the ancient shore