The fog howls in The Cyclone's ribcage.
Starfish stretch and jellyfish tangle
winter rises as interior moons align.
Boardwalk birds pause the otter's bath
cocking ears before continuing to tumble.
Tilt-a-whirl lies still, hunched in defeat
the sand salt infinity catch lines cast to the wind.
Q train drops into underground blue.
1 comment:
Damn you're good, I love this, it reads well as the rain lashes on the window then eases as the howling wind subsides for a brief few moments.
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