i’d like to bet—no wave curls the same; <br />the mist that ricochets upward <br />dissolves into sky <br />as the white crest races toward the sand. <br /> <br />the scent of it lives in your soul; <br />the taste of it touches your lips <br />—sky bathed in salt. <br />—salt bathed in sky. <br /> <br />if only to have <br />wings <br />to ride the mist <br />.........................till the end of time.<br /><br />s./j. goldner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/waves-3/
