The Nature of Things
Early in the morning, as the tide reaches its nadir,
driftwood stands strangely inserted into the sand,
like blind priests wandering in the desert,
their torture temporary, until the next high tide
sweeps them away
The Nature of Things
Early in the morning, as the tide reaches its nadir,
driftwood stands strangely inserted into the sand,
like blind priests wandering in the desert,
their torture temporary, until the next high tide
sweeps them away