In the Wake
Birds watch
child; sand reflects
child; clouds shine
on child, waves calm
for child; day itself takes
care, finding
its inner adult, in the
hope (perhaps) that what
will be born
in that sparkle of foam
will not be a full-blown
goddess, but simply
love, a child lost
in finding, a child
concentrating
in light.
(It’s late, but it’s Friday and it’s 55 words – tell it to the G-man.)
ManicDDaily 
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