the ocean lives
in an empty
soup can
in the field
behind my house
i once found
a conch shell
bleached white
in that field
the ocean lived
there, too
the ocean lives
in my heart
salty tributaries
find their ways
to fingers, ears
the ducts of my eyes
you are too small
to be a moon
yet your song
pulls on the ocean
shaping it
before it flattens out
once more
——
It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 29
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Beautiful
Thank you!
another gem (K)
Thank you, K.
Oh! The last stanza, especially… ❤
Thank you! I liked the last stanza too.