Initials carved
on a tree
in the sand

silent cries

Mortal eyes
only offer

Signals then,
to a sentient being,

an ancient longing,

Tides erase,
time distorts –
no telling

what response
will be achieved –
a superstitious quest.

(Written for 50 word Thursday.  Image compliments of Deb Whittam.)


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

10 thoughts on “Superstitious

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