Not Yet Grown Old

Fall curls around the cliff's old spine

Salt air clinging to my coat like a ghost

The tide draws its breath in slow time

Leaving lace on the rocks, then letting go

Pink light spills across the water's skin

Warming stone that's cold beneath my hand

I trace the path the gulls have been

But don't follow, just watch them land

Oh, this hour holds its breath with me

Between what was and what might be

The sea hums low, the sky turns gold

And I'm still here, not yet grown old

Footprints fade before they reach the shore

Like names I used to call out loud

Now the wind just whispers less and more

To no one standing in this cloud

Oh, this hour holds its breath with me

Between what was and what might be

The sea hums low, the sky turns rose

And I'm still here, a silence grows

Time doesn't rush where cliffs meet foam

It folds instead like waves on sand

I carry nothing but the way home

And the weight of an open hand

Oh, this hour holds its breath with me

Between what was and what might be

The sea hums low, the sky turns gray

And I'm still here

letting go today