Dusty Poetry #78

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The Drift

A raft drifts away from shore
And the one on it plans to return once more,
But instead he waits and floats along
As waves push, and pull, and plans go wrong,
And before too long, the shore is lost.
What a terrible cost
Is paid by those who roam
Too long away from home.

The tides rush in and pull away
Sand and shells and salt – every day.
And so it is that with the sea’s every breath,
A new beach is born as the old one meets death,
And yet like family they look the same
With similar features, sharing a name.


3 thoughts on “Dusty Poetry #78

    1. Thank you! That means a lot coming from you. I really enjoy your writing.

      I do plan to continue, though I must admit, I never imagined writing this much poetry when I started doing it.

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