Monday, October 30, 2017

Rob Schackne #508 - Burning (3)

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


2 comments:

  1. I'm going to ponder that for a while...those damn gulls

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ha. The gulls. Yes. (I wrote the poem after pondering KdK's "Ziggy" for a while.)

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