Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2018
On the bay, the fog fell like ash.
I watched the summer isles disappear into memory,
heard the oyster catcher cry
somewhere out of sight.
Reclining on a bench,
emerald with moss and lichen,
I too was forgotten.
Rory
Written by
Rory  23/M/Scotland
(23/M/Scotland)   
182
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems