Monday, 26 January 2015

Winter's Morning, Run to the Shore

On the days when our hands freeze as we write
When our breath floats out and hovers in the air
Like so many gulls suspended in flight
Let us run to the beach.

When huddling by the fire is no longer fun
And itchy arms long to stretch their wings
In the soft and low slung winter sun
Let us run to the sea.

Don't say we should be doing something else
Like reading or writing or 'rithmatic.
Let the dishes pile up on table, in sink,
Let the work wait, come quick,
Let us run to the shore
And plunge our toes into the soft sand.
Let us race right up to the surf
Stare it down, feel how grand
It is. And run from it laughing.

There is only today, here and now.
Yesterday is long gone and tomorrow
Is just a dream not yet invented.

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