The Cove

A speckled trout dances in the calm past the currents 

Thin pages flap; blank and uninspired 

Footprints leave a trail, but only for a while 

With time they are forgotten, and the trail is dead 

How long until it is rediscovered? If ever? 

Kids sit atop jagged rocks, tossing tales back and forth 

Sharing stories from yesterday 

Their voices hoarse as the night progresses 

Burning cigarettes, laughing, hollering 

The following morning’s light brings their ambitions back to Earth 

A scratchy face watches the tides, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose

He wishes for something to come of this day 

The same wish as yesterday 

Yappy birds soar overhead, their intentions selfish 

At the bottom of a dark dank cove, a skeleton waits to be found

Restless