Monday, April 15, 2013

April

April is here
A third of the year has passed,
And I can’t tell you where it’s gone.
 
Each day breaks,
Crashing over me,
And I tumble endlessly.
 
Be here, now.
Be here, with the swell
Riding the crest, floating.
 
Oh, those days are as rare as the perfect wave.

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