because i was on the edge
of the lake, no, in the midst
of it, standing on solid stone
on a pier over the water with
waves coming at me, pushed on
by the persistent breeze - oh!
I felt the touch on my face like
a glance, or a slight hand, the
caress of the wind all around
the shore was near but in that
moment i could've been almost
anywhere, alone - a castaway
with only the stronghold of
the air and water and stone
under my feet to keep me there.
- adp, 10 October 2013 / last edited: 11 October 2013
"caress of the wind" was the phrase topic for tonight of the poetry chat room I recently joined. Even though I continue to dislike improv and to be honest, I found the phrase blah, I wrote this last minute during the chat by putting myself into a place of memory: willow pier in The Beach/es of Toronto. Hey, cheeztastically cliché or not, at least I'm writing!
