Yesterday, Time was lapping at our ankles. |
It's turned into something almost deep enough to drift in, now. If we stand still and wait for a whisper, we can't help but see the waters rise. |
P.C. Mom |
P.C. Mom |
"In fierce March weather White waves break tether, |
"And whirled together At either hand, |
"Like weeds uplifted, The tree-trunks rifted |
"In spars are drifted, Like foam or sand." ~W. Shakespeare |