I’m making this my own
from gun-metal blue salt water
to orange fruiting of the sun
I am ankle deep in the sand of low tide
running out fast
in the chop of a wind
that has raised heads
white at the top of driving waves
full of fizz in the black
of a night that fades
behind the moon
shining a ripple-line that reaches out
forever
to the last of daylight
this is all mine.
© Frank Prem 2001, 2016
Featured in an e-zine (Caught in the Net 3) that doesn’t exist anymore, back in May 2001
