under pressure
in the harbor
angels with gold-tipped wings
hang out waiting for a call
in the meantime
I work on my own little story
deciding what it means
when she sent me a photo
of chicory by the side of the road
the flowers were blue
but then again they weren’t
and for the longest time
I tried to describe
the color of her eyes
the sea was calm that day
but my heart was racing
a reminder that the ending
is always by my side
june two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
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