why does the wind never forget the scent of the sea stings my skin?
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h47
that corridor walk was a mission statement presentation
h46 (blackout)
one warm evening watching fireflies in the dusk sorrow of shadows
h45 (blackout)
megaphone religion prayers for sheep
h44
walking ahead a silent presentation invitation
h43
missing the years we spent on that bench simply staring at the sea
h42
after we spoke a serious case of island fever
h41
telephone call from more than a lifetime away static on the line
h40 from reluctantly waiting in line to eager participant
h39
hoping to catch a glimpse in the mirror of your reflected glory
h38
back then I never fully appreciated your body of work
