Molting

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MOLTING

hello sweetness

hello rain

goodbye darkness

farewell pain

the rocks, still jagged and wet with moss

under the toes, raw with cold

the fragility of the frigid storm

has stilled and grossed to the tides

the pools are unkept by homes

no fish lie within

nor crabs, or plankton

but the weed and rocks are garland

to the  stage and melodies 

of two years passed within the water

the colors, red and blue bleed through

the molting waves

breath curates from the air

fleeting to the lungs that refuse and lock the doors

another wave, days gone and drowned 

just as the death of a lily’s petals,

they pass and rise again.

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