Love Gone Wrong

All is not beautiful along the beach.
There are dead things and tangles and debris,
once useful or alive, now dead and intertangled,
not worth the effort to pull them apart
and begin again.

About this poem. 

This was an experiment as much as a poem. It is also one of those once long, whittled away to something small poems. I think it works, but my readers will let me know, one way or another.

Lest any of you who know me well worry – All is well between I and the woman I love. No real-time autobiography here. Life is good.

Tom