There is a tension in the rigid repetition
of the waves tonight, in their nature rolling lockstep ashore,
breaking sternly under the bright full moon lighting
our hand-in-hand walk along Kāhala Beach,
how we gawk and talk, point at our feet, pressing down,
making out strange patterns, we create our footprint art, us
trailing crazy fun this time until we stop to look back,
puzzle thoughtfully over the odd long twisting trail we’ve made,
avoiding best as many hard waves as possible, up high, and now
we let go each other’s hands and run, because
a big one is coming, just in time, to explode,
wash up far enough, covering the whole shifting shore,
wiping clean away all our history tracked along to this point,
smoothing over all the old slate of our moon shadowed past.
Today’s word is
patterns
Please feel free to write a bit about patterns and then post that piece as a comment below. I would love to read it : )
Lanning Lee 