Saturday, March 26, 2016

The Sunday Whirl

Posted Sunday March 27

Let me read it to you


It happens sometimes. Not often. The moon beckons me through a gap in my curtains. I leave the warmth of my bed, descend the stairs then meander down the street to the beach watched only by the creatures of the night and a flickering light.

Pebbles crackle beneath my naked feet, but I feel nothing. I dip my toes in the water and gaze towards the shimmering, glistening horizon. I wait. One, two... on the count of three, she appears at my side. She takes my hand and leads me to our special crooked rock. Back to back we sit, knees beneath chins. Minutes go by. Hours. No words pass our lips. No need. When I glance over my shoulder she is gone. My friend. My phantom? I know not her name, neither she mine; I suppose.

I stroll home, pull tightly closed my curtains and slumber 'til dawn. Contented, satisfied.

For now.


The Sunday Whirl



Five days until the start of A-Z Challenge 2016. 1502 writers and poets have signed up so far
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18 comments:

  1. She sounds like a very welcome friend...

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  2. there is something about a beach in the moonlight which makes one feel at peace yet not alone.

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    Replies
    1. It is a place I love to go at night - I go often.

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  3. What beautiful imagery this piece has Keith.

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  4. This felt like a visit with an old friend, phantom or not. Lovely imagery, I could feel mist, although you didn't mention it. Hmmmm....

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    1. Sometimes there's mist, sometimes not. Thanks brenda.

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  5. To watch the moon from outside the house ie the beach, is such a privilege!

    Hank

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    Replies
    1. I live by the beach and I can't imagine living anywhere else. Thanks Hank.

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  6. Such a tender comfort to this piece :-)

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  7. Let her be a mermaid. I love mermaids!

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  8. Children are allowed "special friends", so why not us, Keith. Lovely poem.

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    Replies
    1. Well, we are all kids at heart, aren't we Marilyn?

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  9. Your muse sounds like kindred spirit...enjoyed very much the reading too...

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