In lieu of photos this rainy Saturday evening I thought I'd offer you words. So I wrote a poem just between me and you. Happy Saturday.
In days it seeps like the stiff wind beneath the sails
on a rising tide.
In the offing the light fails.
Of a crevice, murmuring in the distance
crawls forth the darkness.
Shadows emerge, taking advantage of the instance.
In what hollow, on what dimly lit shore
does the light retreat to?
But waiting ever still, it breaks like a candle's flame behind a door.