By the sea
No shoal of merry tuna hunting
grabs the dark belly water tonight
with its green bellowing gardens
deep beneath the first unlit bat.
Touched by subtle wings returning
with yellow beaks that pray for leaks
in the unzipped liquid surface tale
I awe the motion subsiding into good bye.
I will not envelope my dying days
with the icy calm that copes with fear,
nor will I leisurely walk into the water
hoping for a wet element finale.
The chilly zephyr that sides the sand
rejects all refuse that dares the night.
It would be silly to use the stare
into the final fall of water brides.
Poetry by Bob
Read 530 times
Written on 2006-10-15 at 23:13
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 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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