The ocean rusts in the stagnant blood
of dying afternoons.
Copper-taste of sunshine
in her mouth, she swallows
in hopes of soothing
her throat-lodged heart.
The sun wrenches holes through her,
relentless as the tide.
She yearns for moonbeams;
chesire-cat grin in the sky:
co-conspirator in despair.
There is no time now,
only the sea sniffing at shores;
softly stealing her dreams
with the sand
as she hesitates...
Something needs to change.
..she follows after them;
past the crimson tide,
tiptoeing over her horizon.
Author notes
http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i150/pollycheck/not%20used/photography_art.jpg
A contest entry
- 40 Images for 40 Poets by Pollycheck.
425 points, ended December 2, 2007, 12 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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amazing as always. you have not changed. miss you...
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Thank you for entering my contest and good luck. You have penned a beautiful poem and a fanstic take on this prompt. The imagery is so vovid and descriptive. This is an outstanding job.
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