Old hills where you saw
anchoring ships
down the ocean and open shore,
were where you buried
your childhood memories
in a sacred grave
Blue lights of sky,
heat waves that touched your face
swept by the frantic wind
through your hair, through your armpit,
through every part of your shivering body
longing for freedom
and careless journey
Your father’s hand
were like the sea
bending you with unspoken love,
Even if it was only the wind
that heard
your every song to the sea
the sea is getting older
alongside with you
Poetry Prairie – 2015
Poetry Prairie 