By chance I left my heart behind,
Don’t pick it up – it’s beating there.
Still beating. And as good as blind,
Devoid of wild Atlantic care.
Since every sunset could be stolen,
My heart went desperate and heaving.
And amputated it had fallen
To hide in sand as I was leaving.
But filled the gap inside what counts -
Accepting the degree of torsion -
The one that splashes, pumps and pounds.
My only heart - Atlantic Ocean.
Cape Cod
© Copyright: Синельникова Юлия, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106052301458
Свидетельство о публикации №106052301458
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