Skipping stones

Long tall blades
dip and
dangle
At my feet
The wind is warm
low
At the back
between my knees
Waters
Waving
ankle deep
rivets swim and
Stretch below
Pebbles
sinking underneath
Awake again
immersed below
Pebbles pick up
By light breeze
Crimson knocks
A marbled glow
of brightly rippled
windswept leaps
thick Marsala
evening air
Clears the table
Crickets creek
the thickening
of the midnight strokes
Bring The air of
summer dreams
The eerie glow
Of Rustling water
Slipping over
at my feet
Sends me
reaching for another
Found
possibility

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