Your Eyes.

I’ve built this dock stretched over an ocean
A desert of undrinkable water
No maps or tools, just patience and emotion
But the sun sets and the skies grow darker
Rumbling clouds appear and the waves alter
And lightning crashes like a photo still
Frame by frame these planks begin to tatter
And now I drift on waves of roaring hills
But I am more scared of a creek or rill
Or standing at the shore on solid ground
So far from the clouds and fresh rain to swill
Just leave me floating; I would rather drown
To tell stories of when the clouds withdrew
To see the pale moonlight and ocean blue.

One thought on “Your Eyes.

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