Scribbling in my notebook #2
Beating against the shore
Somebody trying to reach me
Across from where I stand
Little fingers wash up onto sand
And sink back into the ocean
A hungry, delicious motion
Gripping sand in an angry clasp
And calling out in a gurgled rasp.
--January 29, 2005
Somebody trying to reach me
Across from where I stand
Little fingers wash up onto sand
And sink back into the ocean
A hungry, delicious motion
Gripping sand in an angry clasp
And calling out in a gurgled rasp.
--January 29, 2005
