those washed out shades of blue and green
rise and crash upon these sands
and tell their stories quick and fierce,
sinking back in to live it again.

these waves burn out and just come back to shore,
a life lived over and over, but never complaining.
they touch the cold feet of children,
and take with them trash,
the seas are the same.
the waves are the same.
the kids are the same.
the shores are the same.

the skies and the seas are distant friends,
they reside far from one another,
but always staring at each other,
much like a soldier and his family,
a photograph love like the blue and the green.