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the waters are calm but they do not stay.
we watch as the waves silently approach the shore and break,
making a palpable sound that is wet and clear.
clear enough to see through to the other side and know
that nothing stays long enough to last.
as the tide falls back, the wind heads west with summer,
taking with it the fleeting memories of a time when people meant their words
in the place where we grew up.
we sat on swings and mapped out our lives,
not knowing that they'd lead us to the middle.
we were caught up in ties binding us to swimming pools and picnic tables,
with friends and faces that could never take a side.
so in the middle we stood, as the tide came rushing back to shore,
watching the loose parts and pieces that didn't grow roots,
struggle to keep from being washed away.