19 December 2012
The fading blue, the greying white, the haze between two scores.
Oblivious to your tune, I sing of ocean against my oars.
Prey tell your aria before I slip into the boundless brume to ponder
On why you may have let me drift on to the bare blue yonder.
Without an anchor, a sudden bass, a wishful sense of persistence.
Reel me back into your adagio, and seize this growing distance.
The Rush of Water • Opuss № I