Beaches

Poem

 

Each
Stop
One bit closer to the ones we need, want
As the metal bugs crawl under the city
Spinning us this way and that
The sand grains spat out of the crabs’ mouths
Lively specks that crawl to the light
Searching the platforms for their like kind
Back to the asphalts and pavements
Scraping the sidewalks with their treads, handbags, weights of existence
Multitudes of colors, weights, magnitudes
Washed upon shore
Composing the fibers of the beaches they litter
All awaiting the sun

 

more by KRISTEN GREEN

photograph by Michael Hirsch

 

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