Author: merja
Date:Mar 25 2007
"I saw the sea on the other side of the world and then I came to you."
"I sat and watched the foreign tides churning, spurning with spite."
"I touched and picked a small white flower, daisy to press and keep forever.
Always in memory of you."
"I heard the wind and gulls sighing aloft, ecstasy within."
"I tasted a shell along the beach, a pebble, sand and stone. Why is it that I
always walk alone?"
"I whisper so soft that my words press hardly against my own heart."
--MAY97
CRESCENT CITY, CALIFORNIA & NOORDWIJK AAN ZEE.
This may be the oldest poem I have published here. It was originally
transcribed onto a piece of driftwood. If it still exists, then it is at the
Dora Schoolhouse. It is not the oldest piece I have retained (if the Ouvre
still exists in hardcopy; rather that was reserved to several other poems from
1994-1996.)