The Dock Of Time

So far, so close.

Then far away again,

In an endless game of waves,

Kissing the shoreline and recede,

Touches of foam laughing

With the winds and sun.

So free, so forced,

So movable, so still,

So warm, so aloof,

So fickle, so steady,

Unreachable though prisoner

In my field of attraction.

So different, though the same,

Like the restless sea water,

That I watched rolling up

Just a fluctuating skirt,

While I am lingering

on the Dock of Time.

ennio forina 2017


ennio forina

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