Speckled face
That they did not wait, seemed not so much at first,
that second day when we nearly went too far.
Finding them was not the point being there, yet
first and last seen, like the stones they lay upon
and some part of the journey we began.
Brown and grey, sapphires hidden close,
speckled granite yet more wet and smooth
above the tide they lay.
Just beyond any reach that tried.
Most do not. Better is their way. To be distant
yet at hand and only one rolling dream away.
Better there, to watch and see.
Yet when we looked and they were gone,
I knew their gift would come again
as for you and me, another rolling dawn.
And who knows what the world will see.
Maybe for some, it was you and me.
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