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Death Has No Name
by Jasmine Sword-MannI can’t remember the ocean
the way I used to - the way sand
felt beneath bare feet, how gulls
circled lazily overhead, picking at
the carcass of a washed up
Portugese man-o-war.
Bronze bodies stretched across
the sand. Tight ribs thrust up like
some great Naga; emaciated and
trying to slither free of a three
thousand dollar prison.
Near the shore, sand castles would
rise and fall, as if every child were
a politician and every wave were God;
the tide leaving fish to rot in the sun. 04/25/2010 Posted on 04/26/2010
Copyright © 2025 Jasmine Sword-Mann
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Julie Adams on 04/27/10 at 08:03 AM a lovely write here...ur descriptions are so vibrant, so profound in nature, visualization, and depth...kudos to an array of worldly imagery, from a Portugese man-o-war carcass to Bronze bodies to slithering imagery of Naga to sand castles and the tide...thank you for this, peace n poems to u, jewels xo |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 06/04/11 at 03:32 AM I see a lot of my own childhood in this, although for me it was Lake Ontario. Thanks for the wonderfully worded reminder. |
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