Sixty-some miles apart, you talk to a surgeon while I walk on a beach plucking even the tiniest fragments of beach glass from the sand. Omens and portents, I'm thinking when I see the birds in the distance. Pure white doves--as if some magician has given them the day off for a trip to the beach. They take flight. I count nine and finger the bright pieces of glass in my pocket as if they are rosary beads.
2 comments:
I'm thinking of you and The Man Who Loves You every moment that I can. I have a little Buddha candle burning as well tonight. Sending love.
You are in my thoughts too. I want so fiercely for all to be well with that man who loves you.
Those doves are beautiful and their presence so startling at the beach. We all look for omens. I would take this one for good.
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