An Old Hammock
An old hammock
sways in a safe place;
appearances of familiar geometry,
echoes of crashing tidal motion.
This place was always
home to us - this place to
seek shelter, seek disguise, covet oblivion;
posit persuasions in waves
of ocean,
perhaps to cradle a foreign ear,
or disturb the lonely torpid night.
Copyright © Kyle Costa | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment