Blogging Poetry

The Sea’s Dead Touch

My albatross friend.

Face up, I’m floating.

I’m Buoyant, bloating.

No waves to wake me,

the Dead Sea claims me.

I’m alone, but free,

my ears are beneath

ripples, unceasing.

A lone albatross

circles the glossy,

marbled sky on high.

“I will sink.” I sigh.

Sink, I certainly will.

The depths and the chill

of the Sea’s Dead Touch…

they shan’t miss me much.

Perhaps the albatross will.


© CGT, 2017.

0 comments on “The Sea’s Dead Touch

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