Tracing, tracing,
The dribbling horizon
Clouds clap and slam
Forks to the hills
Scribbling oceans mumble
And birds stamp the sand
As they scurry to
Welcoming, abode in the scrub.
Scraping, scraping,
Trees test the windows
And pained rusted creaks
Cake the dusk air
Forged assailants
Lurk; in spreading shadows
Warm sands turn cold
And day flees the beach.
Spiraling, spiraling,
Darkness scrapes the lowlands
Tramping sensation
Into days friendly tone,
And familiar sands;
Painted in shadows
Permit black seas
Their gentle lap. . .
