Blue water

long missed

always the sounds

low and longing calls of gulls circling

high overhead

steady crunching beneath my feet

a faint roar.

drawing closer to the slate blue haze

more distinct now

honking of geese moving slowly

across the sand as night drifts in

it’s louder now, the water, leaping and lunging

curling up and cresting wave

washing the hard smooth shore

there, the horizon,

sailboats drifting far off


my imagination is there

the wind solidly pushing against my face as

I sit near the bow my boat cutting cleanly through blue water

of course I am not there

always shorebound

staring across the wide blue expanse of Michigan

there, a white bird

circles overhead I drift up and out

with the unbearable lightness of being

my bird-eyes sharply scanning always the surface

when all I knew or ever knew

lies fathoms below

timidly my bare feet inch towards the lapping waves

which also reach for me,

draw back

reach out

draw back

a slow rhythmic motion

like rocking cradle

or a lover’s embrace

I have been at water’s edge as far

back as my memory reaches

and then I am in, freely

under blue water.

and fear slips away

©diane o’leary 2006

Photo credit Epic Stock Media

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About Me

poet, diarist, writer, teacher, woman, fragile, strong, northern life is my domicile, my barbaric yawp exudes against the tide


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