Her World
She skims the edges of reality,
riding a wild red horse,
to the crashing waves,
catching the sea salt spray,
upon her weathered skin,
like the healing touch of Shaman,
as I stand, waiting upon the sand.
It's the closest we can come,
in her world,
as the turbulent sun
of this world,
reigns on.
I wave hello and goodbye in one,
all the same to her,
as she rides on,
to her very own oblivion,
somewhere beyond,
the crashing waves.
Copyright © Ian Kilfoil | Year Posted 2011
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