Kalaloch Midnight

Day and night, mist
Drizzle and fog.
The tide comes in,
The tide goes out.
Land.  Ocean.  Grey
Mirror images
Roaring, boiling
Raw, chattering
Minds to Silence.

Suddenly the moon
Saws through the fog
To silver the waves;
Middle night has ebbed.
This day begins bright
On the changing tide.

I easily glide on the path,
Beyond the rocks
Toward the moon;
Waiting to embrace its glow
Until full.
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