A calm tide rushes in upon
Writings in the glittering sand
Dew, sparkling, shatters morning light
Dawn blushes, hues waning under pacific clouds

Then, I see a window.
Lucid blue
A sliver, a slice out of dawn's constant blush
And a little white bird lends  me its feathers
So I lift my eyes...

Then I rise.

Few people can be believed
The lips are packed with lies
Words fall as if manœuvred
To benefit selfishness’s world.

I carry the dust of deceitful
tongues, swollen, diseased
Where is cleanliness left?
‘The dog’s bowl at the door’.

Love Mary ***