Washing away castles made of sand

a changing seasons
perfect storm surge ebbs

high tide sweeps away
castles in the sand

all vestige washed beyond
amidst frothy fleeting sea foam

drifting with the flow
of oceans tidal pull

bathed seashore's clean canvas
without a footprint's shadow

ne'r a recognizable trace
nor whispered hint adrift

neither remnant visions of grandeur
nor telltale artifact ruins linger

what once was beheld
now a fading relic 

an impossible dream . . .

       ~              ~              ~

"retrospective solace "

 . . . the more things change
the more they stay the same

maybe there’s not that much
that ever changes

. . . perhaps we just repeat (?!)

     ~               ~              ~

"needing" vs "wanting" ...(14W)

wanting what was taken

more than what's given

invisible agonizing allusions

. . . bitter sweet torn

harlon rivers

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