April is Poetry Month…

Wisely, you bundled against the cold.

But summer found you on the shore,

wool scarf wound round and round

and on your head, some bad hat

to hold in the ancient ideas.

It’s hard to build castles

with your mittens full of sand.

The eternal sound of the tide

loud in your shell-shaped ear.

Salt water floods your boots,

and below the swell

sharks circle your red parka.


2 Comments Add yours

    1. veganrose says:

      Well, thank you!

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