Francis Masat
Different Shades
On a beach walk in a grey-green dawn, I happen upon a stone path I'd not seen before. It is heavily overgrown, but cool and dewy to my bare feet. I eventually come upon an abandoned beach house and notice a stack of life vests in the center of the debris. Forgetfulness or carefully placed? A melancholy metaphor or some message of loss? And similar life thoughts flash through. I soon realize, though, that I cannot know ─ but I cannot seem to leave. Instead, I stare and think "It's often that way, isn't it?" A repeat of a life-lesson I never liked. But that deep down acknowledgement brings, in turn, an inner peace that says "It's okay. Move on." With a deep sigh, I scan about and head back the way I came. As I do, the branches above begin to turn from black to golden green in the sunrise.
on a rising swell
the glow of emerald life
in a piece of seaweed
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