Some Days

Some days it all blends together.
Shore and sea and sky, little distinction
between the three, as if you could walk
one to the other without any awareness
of the difference.

Somedays the color washes out.
You can see the path and where the lines lead,
but it is all black and white and greys,
interesting enough, but somehow, lacking.
Not quite lifeless.

Some days the sun comes out.
Bright and quick to burn off the fog,
quick to burn in the color, just so,
so bright and vibrant as new love.
Suddenly, you see everything
and you are like a child at the town fair,
dazzled by the sights and sounds.

Some days, night blends to day blends to night
and you light fires to push back the dark.
The horizon feels much closer, but at least
you are warm. And some days
that is enough.

About this poem.

I am not really sure what spawned this one. Some days are like that.

The photograph was taken in Kennebunkport, Maine.

Tom