Inhaling slowly

Coming up for air
and I knew you’d be there
waiting for me,
the sea is
she is
we are

I was gone for some time
weaving into the rhyme
cutting loose the thread
tied me to the sea bed
and now I’ve returned
because I’ve learned
I need to breathe,

I believe poetry
allows me to
do that.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.