white cliffs

cliff 2

As if it knows me—

Lost to moments of late summer’s beauty,

I feel it and it feels so right.

A soul, an aura, a heart, a pulse,

so late, so late, so late.

Flames of wind sear my back;

behind, above, ahead—

uncertainty.

Sun blinds, likens me to energy,

molten, scorching, crisp.

The slightest spray of cooling surf drives me to the edge.

Fly to fall, fall to fly

I dive—

Let the tides run through me,

come like torrents of gushing rain.

I am just beneath the surface of a pool of sky.

Kelly Huntson