All Moments are Consumed by Thoughts

January 26, 2014

This is the name you were born with,

only now, it crumbles and falls into

the water breaching at its heels.

Hello - you are the moans of a cruel

sea, and the sand you crave fills

the half-something glass in your ebb.

When did vacations start to consume

small victories? Doesn't it matter

when the shore pushes you away?

Oceans are bound by name alone, and

the ocean is no place to forget just how

hard it is to wash the oil from your brow.

I want to fill this cup with sand and

water to take home, so I can settle

down and find something in tomorrow.

Forlorn is the word which comes to mind,

but sight remembers to wake me from such

thoughts - the sea rolls in, the sea rolls out.

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.