On an island

Between the tick and the tock
And before the last wave retreats
The wind is still.
A moment calm beyond times
More primal yet not primitive
We have fallen.
The cliffs tower, colored
Layers trapping time in static
Composition.
Between the tick and the tock
And before the last wave retreats
The wind is still.
A moment calm beyond times
More primal yet not primitive
We have fallen.
The cliffs tower, colored
Layers trapping time in static
Composition.
--
Am opinionated and often wrong. Writing in a Celtic tradition where stories are the threads that tie together people across time and space.
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Am opinionated and often wrong. Writing in a Celtic tradition where stories are the threads that tie together people across time and space.