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starfish
by Peter HumphreysAs we walked
down
Ballyholme Strand,
the sun
bled
the clouds
red
then
orange
then
gold
with
slashes
of
violet
indigo.
As a child,
you picked up
a starfish
maimed
and
disfigured
by the slow
and violent
caress of
the sea.
Without a word,
we placed
it back
with care
into a
stranded
pool.
Ahead
the gulls
circled.
Dawn
broke. 11/17/2005 Posted on 11/17/2005
Copyright © 2024 Peter Humphreys
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 11/17/05 at 09:32 AM Peaceful and indeed humane...a pleasure to read. Well penned, Peter. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/17/05 at 06:06 PM Really like the descriptiveness of this story-telling poem. Left me feeling calm and peaceful despite the ominous sight of the gulls ahead. |
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