Saturday, July 15, 2006

Writer's Diary #2- Waves (Second Draft)

At six in the morning
you are awake
and the day comes from you
in sparkling dust-
your hope spread over the beach like
a salt blanket on the smooth stones.
You turn it gently back
rousing the child
for the trip.
A last glance reveals
sea weed left like teddy bears
Or were they relics of
bubbles baked sepia
in yesterday’s sun.

At six in the evening
you are more awake
and you slam the day on the table,
sending glasses off
to shatter as you seeth.
Noon was your gamble,
your stakes were high-
and you lost.
Leaving the stones
cold, damp
(except for another
batch of sea weed
yet to harden
and polluted with the seizures
of insignificant shrimp).

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