November 22, 2010

Across Elliot Bay,
I can see Alki through
The veil of misting rain.
It is dry here now,
And even though the sun
Quietly illuminates one half
Of the ash grey skies,
The first thing I notice
Is the wind.

A shift in the air, and
The ocean breeze rushes
Against my right side:
It smells like salt,
And something else
I can’t quite place.
A glance upwards and I
See the clouds hurrying
Towards the horizon in
A natural melancholy…
Suddenly I stand and smile.

It is on these days
That my mind wanders
Onto your familiar doorstep;
Too anxious to knock
I simply wait for morning.