Burning
In the aftermath
throb of an exoheart
all that remains in the air
behind me when she goes
a drowsy numbness
a beach at low tide
tears at the ebb side
where did the swing go
I wake dawn with seagulls
the wind has picked up
things gone missing
I'm going to ponder that for a while...those damn gulls
ReplyDeleteHa. The gulls. Yes. (I wrote the poem after pondering KdK's "Ziggy" for a while.)
Delete