Photo and Poem: The Hidden

What there was to have
remained hidden.
The wind weaved in between
what was said and unsaid.
The sea sang its sanguine song
to drown out our dying voices.

What words could not be said
will not be said.
The gestures that could move
will remain still.

Still, in my memory,
the soft sand beneath my feet,
cooling my sols with soft, moist earth.
Your eyes fluid,
flowing away.