I speak of an evening without words
Birds without wings
Trees without leaves
And grass burnt within its growth
Washed on a shore of half broken shells
Listening for sounds only I can hear
Watching my feet and toes
Covered by sand and washed away
With wave after wave
Each flows across with a gentle massage
The wind and sea caresses
I give rest to the wicked
I am at peace because I played
With words prolonged and unbreakable.
