Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

(1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

C*Taking Turns *


Short of wind your breath belies
the dragging of your heal in
dust we trust.

Sweat dried sand to face
scoured fresh blush the
wind has made
to know.

Wind lifts my arms to take
from you this gift is
precious so.

Submitted: Monday, December 08, 2008
Edited: Thursday, December 11, 2008

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