Washed-Up Poem by Sally A Mortemore

this singular flutter of water grew almost wave-like
upon this squandered shoreline. where puddles sickle my feet
a tsunami of emotion. across the Atlantic
this singular flutter of water grew. almost wave-like
drowning in a bucket-full of tears. beyond all logic.
foetal-like. paralysed by pain. a heart so incomplete
this singular flutter of water grew. almost wave-like.
upon this squandered shoreline — where puddles — sickle my feet.

Sally A Mortemore 2023