Shoreline

I’ve been messing about with this poem for some time now, but I think it’s time to release what I have into the wild and see what sticks. So much of writing is locking thoughts up inside your head, never quite being entirely happy with what’s there. Sometimes it helps just to shout out a bit of a work in progress so that you can keep improving it rather than harking back to where it started. Besides which, no piece of writing is ever truly finished, even when you’re quite happy with it. It still has life of its own, to sway others and connect with their experiences as much as it did with the ones you had that made you put pen to paper.

Anyway, enough philosophy – here’s what I have of it so far. By all means, let me know your thoughts in the comments.


Shoreline

The shoreline is littered with traces of lovers;
Their keepsakes half-buried in the sands.
Ash circles mark a host of flames extinguished
And waves wipe out prints of feet and hands.

Each of them was happy soaking up the sun,
Making monuments with their spades.
But the parasols have tangled up with weeds:
As castles crumble, memory fades.

Walking bare foot, I cast the debris adrift:
The sea will send them to other shores.
Leaving only a single set of footprints
That, like this place, are forever yours.

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