poetry by j matthew waters

windswept at midnight

which way the breeze blows
depends on the mood
of the moon
influenced by waves
continuously at play

high winds do sweep
those blues skies away
turning dirt into dust
and hopes into dreams

inner thoughts recede
settle near the edge
of the sea
waiting on the tides
to rule on a lover’s fate

february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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