I Can Smell It Poem by James McLain

Blowing in from the wind,
across the sand there as you last left it.
It was there I to find and wading over through it, I to find.
The leaves laid across it, have parted slightly.
And bright is the sun, one ray of it asking, left of it?
Hair of your silk, I can smell it.
Each new found sound, moans throaty the wind.
The sun wraps each wave, comes around it.
It is something when speaking I sometimes hear.
Something lost again found you remained.
Picking it up, it is stained with the ocean, it's salt.