In Lieu of Traveling

Trailing down, grappling

along frontlines.

Chilling ghost towns    taking seaside

children. They wait,

just wait.          Pretty little dancers take their stance,

to hug tides when waves

are thrown, their strong endless

bodies spilling out against

gritty star dust.

Choosing to ignore the

unceasing urge – no trees,

no grass, no petal, spine or stem.

The shore, the shore, hold down the shore.


One thought on “In Lieu of Traveling

  1. From “pretty little dancers” to the end, it was so ‘oooh and ahhh’ I had to read it aloud once, twice, thrice…thrilling to the roll of the words each time…


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