Sting
Sting
Strolling along the sandy beach
The tide is far and away
I cannot glance into the sky, so blue and bright that day
Lit upon the grainy sands
Sucking from below
Quenching the tiniest of thirsts, just along the row
My sandals left behind
For a lovely natural abrasion
Callouses aside by a softer, watery fashion
Camouflage and coloring
While sipping sweet relief
There is no buzzing from below, or as I place my feet
The sounds I make that crack the heat
While hopping all around
Come forth from the tiniest of beasts, who simply defends its ground
Copyright © Lee Yokel | Year Posted 2019
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