A Night In Tenerife
the sea the skin of a wet dog,
black the beach; a ruined church,
the coastal lights a string of lesser ways,
we are as empty as a dropped shell
pulled across the ebb, a ripple of salt..
and as the night gets deeper
a dragon breathes like the tide:
no mistake, the dark needs its hours.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2017
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