Falling Tides

Number 29, finished (along with 30, to be posted momentarily) with a few moments of the last day to spare. Both appear in the draft below:

ocean and vilanelle

This was technically the last poem of the month, but I think the villanelle (to follow in my next post) is themed more appropriately to wrap up the project:


When we sense the swell,
we expect the wave to rise,
and watch the angry foam, sure enough,
crest on a gaping maw,
and though we anticipate the crash,
we still cringe when it falls,
and while we feel battered
and soaked to the bone,
we seem to miss
the ocean’s scale
and the sparkle in the water.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s