Trodding along the seaside

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“But how do we dance?”, they ask. “We are but mannequins on display, elaborating or possibly just hinting times told, perhaps of rot and decay”.

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The view was vivid, the coffee strong. And with a song we hummed along the way down to the shore. The waters behaved.

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Eroded.

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Invaded.

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And the breeze told a story of past times (perhaps it was assumed by the song we sung).

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Entangled glamorous contraptions; perhaps not so.

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But directed in segments,

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onto strange paths.

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Then, finally, to rest.

 

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One comment

  1. AnaJ. · November 25, 2014

    Love this! 🙂

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