Each time sea-waves
Break on the beach.
A story is left to be
Forgotten.
Well stirred.
Well thought and
A well crafted story
Is left in the sand
To be gone.
I dipped my feet
To forget my own.
Ended up writing
Another instead.
A story absorbed
To abandon another.
Against the one I wrote
To let another float.
The one that came
Out as ink is fine.
Mine must be a
Giant-sad-wave by now.
No comments:
Post a Comment