maelynslavik

now I sit in the orchard

Apples, pears, and plums filter the sunlight

it shines through in thread-width rays

pure and packed with heat

unmeasurable in inches

unmeasurable in its own way

The tide calls 

it beckons hearts 

it soothes souls 

it will encompass you within its salty wrath 

give you praise, accept you 

and then spit you back out.