On this line, plunge into cold water
Roll back the excesses of yesterday
Be refreshed by a word; zest. Pen
Pressed against the ultra fine paper
Pathways through art & love & you
Tokens prescribed beneath the pines
In the hold of the breeze. In the hold
Of a need for a slight definite distance
As if the footsteps on the sands are the
Only waves that can break our hearts
This poem is from the collection
