No strings attached
the wind whisper
try to convince me, I reply.
And try again
once more
and then once
more
the Atlantic, the grace of mine,
is calling.
While fall is upon us
we try not to fall
to hard,
rather to fall into
the fall
that will keep us safe,
if we just remember
how to breath
the air
of
the fall.
Rememberance.
Since childhood,
my place for rest
my shelter,
at the very bottom
of that mountain.
Gratitude,
gratitude.
Still today, the boat upside down
hidden under branches
to bring me over
anytime I need
to hide.