The Waves
Strolling along Myrtle Beach
Collecting shells in the sand
The waves become hypnotic
And the mood moves into grand.
So many thoughts and memories
Come rushing back with the waves
Thoughts that flood and can’t be stopped,
Some get panned, but some are raves.
Again and again
They flow in and out
Life reliving every decision
Life reliving every doubt.
Then sanity reasserts
For the mind knows what it knows
And hypnosis grinds to a halt
With the sand between my toes.
By E. Marshall Evans
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