Tendrils of time

Sweeping to and fro
Pulsing on ribbons
Streamers glistening baubles
Twirling with rising tide
Teasing her threads
Of sterling silver
Softly wavering
All is quiet
Eyelids broaden
Peripheral vision
Stunning finds
Laced with regret
Submerged fields
Bottlegreen satin
Thickets thinning
With age old wisdom
Does anyone listen
When seeing nothing
Left for our children?
She paddles solo
As the echo chamber
In my head repeats deafeningly
What's down there?

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