Rolling Tide (a short poem for the weary)
The tiredness in her brown eyes—like the wind when it sends rhythmic sighs. Like the tides fall and rise. Albeit a photo, merely, I could read it; the sadness, the weariness. So I wrote what I do not have the courage to say—hoping that maybe one day, she will read it. After all, she inspired it. Not everyone who seems content and happy truly is. I don’t follow the idea that our being here is an accident. This piece will also be found in a forthcoming compilation.
Rolling Tide
By Olivia Nicole McLean
Rolling through the trees
Like a fierce tide
The wind whispers and cries.
Though anguished the soul
Bows to the earth
Remember the day you were born
Remember your worth.
Photo courtesy of the author
Copyright ©2023 Olivia Nicole McLean. All rights reserved.