My eyes cannot view the sea from here
but its brackish scent wafts through
with the course of spring wind
It reminds me of times spent in its warm, emerald waters
and the passage of time
So fleeting time, in its uncharted path
ever shifting like the wild spring currents
If I could go back again
however I cannot
Here I sit in calmness
breathe what the breeze brings
And know we will again
someday.
Busted Flip Flops 