At the Shore

My family is buried
all around me.
Mother, Father
mixed along the east coast
waiting, for a pair of hands
to give them pillars,
make them stand again,
a little closer to the sky.

One will tip me over soon.
Twice in one day,
perhaps even a third.
Best believe, I’ll be back again
pushing through the current;
high or low, it doesn’t matter.

For now,
I lay here by the ocean,
patiently waiting
for the throne of my own castle



11 thoughts on “At the Shore

  1. I think this is fabulous, especially as we approach the anniversary of Sandy. I’m from the shore and this really brought back memories; both good and bad. It did exactly what poetry is supposed to do, elicit emotion.


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