A TIDE of
unceasing fear
like falcon-clutched throat
belies my appearance in light
On the surface —
no ripple
beneath the veil
a crashing winter ocean
To be…
one wave short
of a shipwreck
— without rescue boat
Abandon deck
all below
we sink
with mast and sail
Who cries
for the lost
at sea — the gulls shriek
beneath the tides —
the souls
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 