The Moon

August 6, 2017

She hung high in the sky looking down to all the little white hands of the ocean that reached up to her. Their small fingers stretched out as they reached the crest of the wave then sunk back down into the blue depths. Her glowing grey light reflected off the glistening blue surface of the water and hit the sandy shores. The shores where the little white arms tumbled and rolled upon the small grains or crashed into the rocks that stuck out of the cold ground.
As I sit there watching the waves crash upon the shore the moon drifts away toward the horizon. She gives the ocean one last embrace before she disappears behind the waves that rage and roar. They call to her to come back and pull them, but she doesn’t turn around, and for a moment we are alone. It’s just the waves, the empty blue-grey sky, and me.

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