The End of Summer

My Oceans

Wet sand under our feet, as we walk a few more minutes along our beach

wind caressing our faces, and for some reason My Love

the seagulls object to our hand holding,

our salty kisses

as we surround ourselves

in the waves.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

Note: We haven’t been to the beach yet this year. We are still hoping to.

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15 thoughts on “The End of Summer

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