A haunted wind moans softly through the trees
Its arms aware of new asymmetries,
The sea as if afraid hugs tight the shore
For missing are the victories of war.
With dusk, a fragment moon shines overhead,
No history, both time and men are dead.
High School Senior English Class 1961
Poet’s Notes:
The first poem I ever wrote. Inspired by Nevil Schute’s book ‘On the Beach.’ The original poem misplaced, this version was created on Sept 5, 2014
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