En tournant la lune

And one seems to wander back unto an old yet lovely shore
where pretty much everything appears unchanged lore
the greenish blue landscape rocks our cradled memory
that stands amidst a horizon triumphal and glimmery
in spite of the waves rolling swiftly on the sand
wiping our footprints, wrinkling our hands
soothing our eyes, echoing our voices
beneath the water
overhead the skies
minutes fall
like drops
on
the
everlasting
ocean
of
laughter.

Let that be a remembrance
of our love and friendship
betwixt the friendly vultures.