Castaway

Written by: Sheri Fresonke Harper

After Derek Walcott’s Poem

We have this in common
Sandy spit
Empty hours to walk alone

Needing to find use
For the forgotten
In the eyes of other people

Washed up
Softens all tones
To sandblasted blue glass

Eyes, drawn out toward sky
The driftwood branch has stars
Or rafts toward uncertain lands

Toward a fire pit nest
where paper cups makes castles
and feathers, a reedy sail

for those whose wings
have fluttered far and long
and settled down
on a temporary, final beach.