Tercets

Poetry, Short Prose and Walking

I don’t remember when I left that word.
It must have been upon some beach. My breath
oppresses. Were I silent like a bird

I might have flown securely on my way.
I left that word abandoning its sound
And hope the sand will keep its harm at bay.

Years ago it filled my heart. I sung,
But now I would forget what passed my lips
Repenting, if I may, to soothe my tongue.

Linked to dVerse Poetics where Laura Bloomsbury is hosting featuring tercets with specified rhyme words coming from Raymond Garlick’s poem “Welsh-Speaking Sea“.