The shore recedes from view, seems all is calm,
But rumbling rifts unseen, love can’t sustain,
He stands alone ‘neath leaning, whispering palms,
Muted, baffled, passions yet untamed.
No stutter in his step, yet fears unnamed,
Cannot suppress the longing in his soul,
He strode away, pretending, unashamed,
He chose to set her free, unleash his hold.
With silent words, a lover’s language, cold
that chilled him to the bone; to comprehend
the cliff they faced (her absence), could unfold
A rickety shell that might their cart upend.
She yearned to spread her wings – exciting flights,
He’d wait…he had already found the heights.
Written for The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #175:
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