Painting Morning



You’re asleep as
I leave – you know
my need to walk close to
the edge of the ocean –
bare footed – toes sucking up
pebbles – drinking salt water
as pores open – leaving a soft
layer of white –

rose colored shells –
soft purple – yellow –
gathered on this beach
where sea gulls saw
my praise to the sun –
my arm lifted, my hands toss
bread to sea gulls, snatched as wings flap.

Rose, pink, yellow
and purple drew me there –
alone – with a sea horse –
as shells gather to disappear
as the sun reaches high
noon – it is now, a sun slips out
of the ocean – unseen by
those who sleep. My treasures, free.

Rest, for you are not
searching for colors
between my toes.
Lay there, while my eyes
drink colors from a
rising sun painting morning.

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Angie's Diary