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Aug 2018
covered with drywall dust
and shards of glass
one knuckle split
dripping red

some grains of sand
nestled inside
from a foggy grey
New England beach
where we once stood
gazing at our ship's torn sails
flapping in the wind

they'll find them
when they find me

they'll find them
spilling from the creases
of my still warm hand
as it opens
slowly
Written by
Brian Rihlmann  44/M/Nevada
(44/M/Nevada)   
  232
   arizona, --- and Logan the Bear
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