By Adam J. Pearson
Fleet fingers trace loose spirals through the sea,
Looping lines that bloom and dissipate
Like airplane contrails in blue sky.
Toes twinkle as legs linger off of docks,
Carefree and limber in the cozy warmth of summer.
Everything drifts, everything floats, everything lifts–
Look and see how the glare of the golden sun
Flares off the whites of smiling teeth
And flashes swiftly into emptiness.
Life does not sit; it roars and rolls its way,
Racing, growing, touching, tasting, flowing,
Reaching out through endless hungers for adventure.
These are the deafening sounds and blinding sights
Of a vibrant moment in a common life,
The towering triumphs of our fleeting hours.