A new draft, shared with The Mag and dVerse.
BOY ON THE BEACH
Stones and shells.
Each grey disc
or pink ellipse
is a crashed planet.
Driftwood and shards.
Dreams tangled up
in the mystery script
on blown cartons
and vagabond bags.
He scuttles, unshelled,
under a carillon
of seagulls, drunk
on salt and ozone.
This child who fears
clouds and mirrors
for the shapes
they throw
is healed for a day
by the moonstruck
logic of the tides.
Sound File
