Iona Winter

I love how the wind swirls blossoms

around the footpath.

 

It reminds me of your hair

and kelp in the ocean, dragged

by the currents.

 

I imagine myself swimming

below your wiry frame

star-fished

in the water.

 

Broken pieces of ourselves

suspended

in the rhythmic caress

of waves licking

our underwater ears.

 

The smell of the sea

has always kept us safe.