Kayaking

On a moonlit night, listening to stories untold…

Or a warm summer morning, like melted gold..

The rusty old shoes, the same necklace of pearls..

The same old songs and her hair in perfect curls..

In the deafening peace of a snowy winter night..

The clock ticked louder, reminding of it’s might..

But everything at the sea was forever changing..

Change is life, thus the old man loved kayaking..

17 thoughts on “Kayaking

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