Sunday, April 23, 2017

April 23, 2017 Sunday's Whirligig #108 -- The Sunday Wordle # -- Poets United Poets Pantry/ Beach Trash

     BEACH TRASH

 

the kitten softly curls against me                it is no longer midnight

 

a time sleep eludes me                    no longer blinded by darkness                   

 

it is morning              in memory                  i step out onto the deck      

 

it has been many moons                  since maidens in the form of blue herons

 

 

 

have greeted me there         the seagulls fly and fight for morsels          scream

 

play tough-of-war on the beach                  the dead and dying  rot there

 

you could not say                  life at sea is peacetime         to eat or be eaten

 

their lives are a game of       hide and seek      glass balls or fisherman’s floats

 

 

 

wash ashore               sparkle among the beach trash                   the bits and pieces

 

the dead bodies        no longer what they were                no longer full of color

 

flashing through the water          but colorless                       tied together in death

 

seldom do we recognize       what remains                                    beach trash now      

 

April 23, 2017

 

                                                                                                                       

 


 

11 comments:

  1. Your poem now has set me wondering as to going on in that vast basin of oceans. Beach trash is now no longer. just beach trash

    Have a nice Sunday Annell

    Much love...

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  2. The food chain ... human detritus ... some sparkles ... morning comes.

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  3. I love this poem full of the beauties of the beach, along with the detritus humans leave behind. I especially love the maidens in the form of blue herons. So lovely.

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  4. Oh this is lovely!! I especially love those blue herons :D

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  5. There is so much that one can find in beach trash. I will never think of it the same way again. An evocative poem, Annell!

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  6. As someone else has already said, "Man-made is ugly." Our detritus will be the death of us. I wish it could be otherwise. I love the blue heron maidens.

    Elizabeth

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  7. This strikes me as a sad indictment on the ways in which humanity encroaches upon nature.....chasing away the blue heron maidens that were once so plentiful!

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  8. The sadness of the circle of life and death are spelt out so clearly here and it is not difficult to place ourselves at the scene as well particularly those of us that have known unbearable grief.

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  9. seldom do we recognize
    what remains
    beach trash now

    One often wonders what the outcome of all the goodness after sometime! Such is the cycle of life that keeps progressing to end in an unsung manner as trash!

    Hank

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  10. this feels like the pull of breathing - how much effort it can be and yet we make it past midnight and another day comes

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  11. Reads well.
    Is that meant to be 'eludes' in the second line? (Sorry, I can't help it. I'm one of that sorry bunch called editors.) :)

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