Sensing you

The timbre of your voice is in the sound
the North Sea makes now the wind has turned West,
and shells in fancy shades are washed ashore,
along with driftwood sculptured by the salt;
the deepest green and brown of sea weed, all
neglected presents, the beach indifferent
of gulls mourning over loss. I hear you
in every wave that falls apart in foam.
I pick the shells, stone flowers to take home
to wait as always. Like you might return.

Comments on: "Sensing you" (17)

  1. E. English said:

    Infinitely sad and beautiful…….gorgeous.

  2. Sweet and beautiful longing scene.

  3. In Greece, I believe, the gulls don’t so much mourn as proclaim the coldness of flight – “Krio! Krio! Krio!”

    • πŸ™‚ In France, roosters say cot cot codΓ¨t . I once heard a crow say “hell” .

  4. I’ve been away and to come back to this verse, and the sensibility behind it is such a rich pleasure.

    I hear you
    in every wave that falls apart in foam.

    Love that. Simple and so evocative

  5. lovely poem, Ina.

    en een hele fijne moederdag πŸ™‚
    groetjes, Francina

  6. ‘I hear you
    in every wave that falls apart in foam.’

    Captured beautifully – the loss and yet sense that the beloved is not gone.
    Just waiting … XO β™₯

  7. I love your sea poems Ina. And in this one I especially like the waves falling apart in foam.

    I can feel the salt in the air; I need a day by the sea:)

    L&H xx

    • πŸ™‚ Thank you Christine, strange how the sea seems to do us a world of good, but the water that comes from the sky makes us miserable….
      L&H xx

  8. That’s a very good point! Lol

    Xx

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