But The Lucky Ones - Poem by Blue Guitar
The sea may rise and fall
In great sweeping arcs now,
Where once were ragged edges,
Joined together as if by madmen.
But the red light of morning
Begs for us to latch and seal
And bolt fast what has shaken loose.
She would swallow us whole,
Neither of vengeance nor compassion,
It is her nature.
And we are but the lucky ones.
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