Author’s Note
A moment of hesitation at the edge of connection—where silence lasts longer than words, and the question matters more than the answer.

Low Tide
Poetry by Rowan Evans
I see you
standing amongst
the waves.
I watch
as you step
and sway.
Slowly,
I approach.
My mouth moves.
No words come—
until I’m within
arms reach.
That’s when
my mind allowed
me to speak.
“What are you wading for?”
If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]


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