The Boy and The Sea
From his window he would look to the sea,
a daily, an every moment sea,
of spring and neap tides,
slave of the moon and wind,
mirror of the skies.
By the shore, where the waves come to die,
he dipped his toes
raised his eyes…And he walked
to where it touches the sky,
so he could the birth of waves feel,
into the sea, towards the open sea.
Xoanxo
Mon 21st May 2018 00:48
Thank you Martin! I wish it was me but it's my Argentinian friend Hernan Ruiz, a great guitarist! I am currently taking lessons...
I know what you and Colin mean and that is why this little poem is the first in my poetry book in English, Xoetry 2017 but also in the one I have just published a few week ago in Galician, Imos Indo...