Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2014
The cruel cold sea spits out salt in tall waves.
Can’t breathe when I sing or I’ll choke on sand.
Ships sail through rough seas, black skies blur
sight of those on board. Smell the damp oak creak
from blue strength, can’t slow the whirlwind in the clouds.
Let the storm brew, then pick up the spines of shells
that broke and danced in the waves. Can’t see
the shore through the haze; look for the twist and turn
of sand as it laughs – look for shimmering jewels
and gem stones, and light from the lamp
at the edge of the reef. Safe from harm.
Amy Y
Written by
Amy Y
Please log in to view and add comments on poems