Archipelago

30 Jun

 

I made a wish this morning.
The same wish I make every day.
Are there places where they wash up
like sparkling shells on shores,
each one a tiny invitation
stacking like stars?
One day, I imagine
they’ll grow larger than the ground
where they land,
begin to crumble in piles and grains
watered by salt and shaping wave
into a bridge.
One morning I’ll carry the last wish across
like a gift
So bright, so clear.
So ready,
for unwrapping.

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