Friday night
She walks on the beach at night some nights
Hard sand
Dark cool
Tide flows in
Deafening roar
Beckoning
Turn around.
I am here just below the surface
So peaceful
So quiet.
Change
All things die OK, well all things definitely change and I hate change. Change is like death. What is known is gone but not forgotten like death. What is coming is not known like life. Here we are in the middle of it all not dying not living hating change.