Heading Out To the Open Sea
Waves slap the hull and slither down the deck.
We've left the strident seagulls far behind.
The lighthouse beam pales as we pass the wreck
whose rusting iron ribs still groan and grind.
From: There are No Clouds
For: Rithimus Divisa 7 Poetry Contest
Rhyme poetry form only.
Poetry Contest Deadline: Sunday, October 25, 2020
Sponsored by: Gregory R Barden |
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