Friday, July 5, 2013

Friday Original Poem

Oswald West Beach

Where I lost it all
to a sea anemone, three starfish,
two orange, one purple,
to the surfer roasting
abalone over open flames.

Sent it all
back into the sea that
salt-stained my pant cuffs,
washed me.

Collected caves,
indents in the earth
where I fit.

Vowed to the lines of petrified logs –
benches in waiting –
where I sat spreading waves
on the day’s toast.

© 2013 Regina Gort all rights reserved