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Storms Are Fierce
They keep on rolling as the incoming, rapid waves splash,
and with them they bring an army of hungry shellfish;
a cemetery of shells pave the long stretch of this beach...
never walk barefoot: as Lora did, she couldn't beseech!
Nobody is treading the desolate beach to collect shells
clouds are too dreary, winds are increasing their speed;
pelicans are gathered by the saturated, greenish rocks:
no kid dares to scatter them, they are trembling indeed!
Vicious crows search for food and munch on dead fish,
fearful seagulls watch then with envy, killing their wish;
survival in Nature has no rules: hunt or starve to death...
and no fowl wants be the next meal for humans' teeth!
I'm the observer and saddened by their fate, I ponder...
fishermen depend on a good catch and there's none;
their boats tied to poles aren't allowed to row alone...
storms are fierce and ravage everything that lies under!
Copyright ©
Andrew Crisci
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