Re: Old friends who don't speak. (metaphor= day @ beach) by Trisha De GraciaWhat are we now
And who are these strangers
Replacers...
Fading sun at the dim of a saltwashed day
As we cling to the ones we’ve discovered
Bright shells we have sifted through buckets of grit
Our castles cast shadows
Each tower soon sent to the gallows
The sea crashes in and we swim
For the safety and grounding of shore.
Our summers
Are now more than ever
No more.
05/24/2009 Author's Note: I'll write good poetry later. Right now I'm sad.
Posted on 05/25/2009 Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia
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