Lonely wind
breathes across the edge of land.
Its inhale,
its exhale
sighs as it slides over the curves of boulders.
The only words
day upon day
are the wind skimming, curling,
whispering its truths
to its old friend.
The outcrop
Lonely wind
breathes across the edge of land.
Its inhale,
its exhale
sighs as it slides over the curves of boulders.
The only words
day upon day
are the wind skimming, curling,
whispering its truths
to its old friend.
Poems from in between 
2 responses to “The outcrop”
I can see and hear this so clearly
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Thank you so much. I am so touched by your response.
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