I am healing like a dehydrated hydrangea
My skin is blotted with tints of sepia
My limbs are branches of a willow tree
A stone is warmer than me, more free

A straight line holding the water
Stopping it from spilling
Strands of endless laces
Shades of blue shimmering.

Behind the line lies an island
With the giants, Ben and Eye, to see
A palace without a real king
With a queen and queens-to-be.

Roaring rotating wings of a robot dragonfly
Yellow with blue stripes up about 10 feet high
Sun worshippers raise their phones to shoot
That the patient survives is moot.

Refreshing breeze blowing from sea, soothing my skin, relaxing my brain
Soft fine soaked sand accepting my steps, caressing my feet, giving in
Blankets of barnacles whispering stories, as I squeeze through water breaker poles
This same walk, others have taken, from different places, of different colors, blessed souls.

A song woke me up this morning
Invited me looking out, searching
I didn’t find the singer waiting
Instead I was greeted by the moon perching...