creative-writing, Death, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Poems, poetry


an oceanless shore
breathes moist vapors
and dreams of voiceless tides.

The beach is now a graveyard;
islands are the tombstones

white condolence flowers:
albatrosses that flew too high.

I sometimes feel sorry
for the rivers at the estuary.
now adjusted to a silence.


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