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Leaving the place where I find myself
The sand in my shoes,
I take with me.

While the heron, I leave,
still and silent,
to join in, another day.

Leaving the place where I find myself
The rock I will take,
In my pocket.

While the Scrub Pine, is left,
to it’s twisting limbs.
I return, someday to your branches.

Leaving the place where I find myself
the memories,
I carry along.

While the longing, and laughter,
still lingers,
in its rightful spot on the pier.

Leaving the place where I find myself
the conversations,
I keep in my mind.

While the unformed words, I’ll keep safe in the sea,
for revealing on my return.