After The Storm

And after the storm, the air is clean.
The darkness has fled. Skies are blue
and there would seem no need for lighthouses.

And yet here you are. Gazing to sea
waiting for the emptying,
for the tide to take you out

and bring you back again.
Maybe even whole.

About this poem

It is still windy here on the cape, with the worst yet to come (they say, but you know the weather).

Life is full of tides and storms and one hopes, times of peace and understanding. Renewal.

Tom