Petals do not fall. I know. And each step through sinking sand is slow but certain, sure. It is time to put us out to sea. Take care, the waters choppy, the land fades from view and there are only memories of shore now but you, you are an adventurer and you must go to some place new.

Hands clasped through rope and rigging you promise one day you will come back through. The tide will lower and there you'll be there. Well traveled, fuller, but the same you. But I know my dear that these waters crack rock and move stone, so what will they do to you?

You'll write from Ibiza, you'll send cards from Rome.   Don't my dear, live so big you can't spare the time to think of home. Let the breeze from the sea be your only remembrance, of times past and worlds new.

Petals do not fall because when the breeze came, I blew.


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