this morning the light’s strange

like it should be ethereal, entrancing, but it’s not.


flat sky, full of washed out brightness, the arc of the heavens saying

you’re existence doesn’t move or concern me mortal


like the feeling after an argument with one who should be one’s beloved,

but something went wrong,

and all the emotion has left that washed out space where a while ago it raged


I remember those things

even though age now chooses for me to be alone

and in the empty light a fey contentment,

lost, in my non-understanding

of this strange and delightful ocean in which I swim


4 thoughts on “Fey

  1. I really like this poem, especially about the ocean. I’ve spent many days on the beach of Lake MI for it’s healing, both visually and physically. (I know it’s not the ocean but to people who live in MI it seems like it.) 🙂 -Hope


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