When I met the summer sea,

I was standing on the edge of nowhere.

It was a sort of seabird sense of humour,

when the world was new.

 

All was dripping in the sun.

Salty young silhouettes on old scars.

Sunflowers lifting faces to the sun

their divinity mirroring his.

A breath of wind,

which ripples the reflection of an usual sky.

 

I became accustomed to the light.

Though the gentle morning lay reminders of yesterday’s hurricane.

And I couldn’t walk on familiar paths and trails,

but I could explore the tops of giant fallen trees.