Dimestore Shoes Poet Ode

On Bleached Seagull Sands

Over the crys of seagulls
gods whisper loudest
over rain, and children voices
heavens open, declaring
'Sorrow is a pagan mask,
to scare the spirts
of envy away!'.
In Summer, tides rise
longest, crustaceans
crawl highest, only
to be devoured sooner
on bleached seagull sands
warming, burning, leaving
a decaying, vanishing shell.

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Donna Golden September 13, 2009 at 8:13 PM Okay, so you must have re-posted all of these poems, because none of them have comments. They're too good to have no comments! This is a wonderful allegory for the way that life struggles and sacrifices to sustain itself. Well done, Tom! Donna