Tides Don’t Turn
They’re relentless
rolling toward the shore.
Waves crash—
an unforgiving Kublai Khan
or opiate inspired
vision in a dream.
A fragment.
A sliver of the largest moon
that ever pulled the tide
up
with such reliable gravity.
A tragedy.
The only words
to linger longer
after the last line
are those of brittle madness
and broken peace.
***
Today’s “First Draft Friday” Poem was inspired by thoughts about how even though much of my life has changed in the last few years (and continues to change), there are some constants that always remain the same.
Photo by Cristian Palmer from Unsplash
ShySpark 