ALONE

Alone by the Cape's
sun, rocks, shore,
briefly meeting
the evident dunes
and wild roses
stones picked up
in my horizon
now in a sailboat
as waves move
my subterranean soul
remembering so clearly
a fine seasoned refugee
and art friend's phrase
of being transformed
by natural color
when every
exiled thought
whispers
its liquid solitude
of a passing sea voiced
on a blue kind of sky.