Shifting Sands
Poem
The moon hangs low
In a crimson sky
Shifting sands upon
A shining shore
I see here standing there
She is still
I can see how the wind plays
With her golden hair. I call to her
But my voice empties
Into the cool night air
Below, beneath the blackened curtain
White waters crash and
Chop upon grey teeth
I see them wait
I see them lick their lips
O! how they wait!
Then she dives like a bird
I cry and run and reach the place
Where she once stood not
So very long ago, that beating heart
That living soul
Now it is bare
That sweet young girl
With the golden hair
Is no longer there
The moon hangs low
In a crimson sky
Shifting sands upon
A shining shore
I see how the wind plays
With her golden hair
I call her but my voice empties
Into the cold night air
