This Ship. Pepast.

 

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Submitted by stoneprince 5 years ago

I love past-time.  Smooth rocks.  Soft landings.  Encouragements and tears.  I am fundamentally lost.  My hull collides with waves too high to climb.   My rather becomes a  strange elopement.  Past familiar moorings.   I was sent past dogma and I reveled in constellations.   I am looking for that land.  Beachheads to share.  A hand fit to mine.  Comfort in an Ivy Wall.  Long steps rejoined in a temporal faith.

This a follow-up.  Of lives gone.   Relevancy,  crushed ice in tepid waters..

Larry Olson

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