Vistas

Photo — my own

Beginnings end
may sound the chirp of a sour song,
not this story

It was not a
second sooner than our burdens
were heaved shoreward

Nets of soggy
unwanteds, plucked castaways
turned to sparrows

Once we recalled
flight patterns, and not before
glum chins lifted

To watch them soar
off in misty-eyed disbelief
that our eyes met

Beneath steep falls
of failed journeys, offering
up a lightened

Concept for sore
souls and seaworn hearts to ponder:
Endings begin