Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 8
I walked the shoreline,
barefoot
against the wind—
the sand,
stinging my face.

The tide held its silence,
better at keeping time
than keeping promises—
softer than salt air,
gentle as a smile,
gone and forgotten.

Loneliness
fell short,
a sigh,
a soft retreat—
leaving only the faint warmth
of footprints
fading behind me.
Marc Morais
Written by
Marc Morais  55/M/Canada
(55/M/Canada)   
51
   erin
Please log in to view and add comments on poems