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Three poems written while on vacation,
Erosion
Disaster, by definition,
Never comes planned,
And happiness can be found
Like quarters in the sand.
Daily disappointments will
Erode a man from boy,
Temporarily regressing when
Blasted full of joy.
Gravity
A great city, it has its own
Force of gravity,
And once too close, every road
Speeds closer to it still.
But once a car has broken free,
Flung to the rural mesh,
One can drive erratically,
Free of urban will.
Home From Vacation
The sea crapped its salt
As clumps in my hair.
The winds dumped into my lungs
Debris infused air.
The sea it streamed away -
In a shower stall I stood,
And winds cannot now reach me
In my shelter made of civilized wood.
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July 18 2005, 09:34:37 UTC 6 years ago
July 18 2005, 09:19:46 UTC 6 years ago
July 18 2005, 09:35:30 UTC 6 years ago