suspected nativity

home is where ebbing foams
and sand dollars and shells
with or without ridges
or furrows deep or shallow
are resigned to being tossed
in cozy bliss’s extra-wide

hammock and partake in
a conspiracy in which
the sandy shore has no choice
but to surrender in submission
to salted licks and where somewhere
not distant from huts of grass

prone to shivering via
stealth and through which windows
giggles are sisters to butterfly
flutters, prints imprint dampened
stretches, coconut cracks,
waves risen, roll, roll, roll

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in free verse, poem, poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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