Weathered -


Steps grow heavy

Upon weathered wood

The end is near

In all likelihood;

Old bones creak

As toes sink into sand:

A warm embrace

A welcoming hand

To the water’s edge

And the ever-changing tide

That tickles tired feet

As it revives

A weary soul

Not yet done learning;

A boat ride awaits

To take you further

Atop the tide

You’ll rest and find

Being carried by another

Provides peace of mind.

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