I saw a little boy
carrying a dead fish
at the beach.
The fish was flat - decayed -
the color of wet sand
viewed through my tinted glasses,
which added to the gloom of the day.
It made me think of change
Here it was
a warm October day and
just 3 months ago
this beach was packed
with people,
the water more inviting.
The days are getting colder.
I hate the cold;
it reminds me of something inside myself;
something not just cold
but something dead -
life isn't like the seasons;
there's little guarantee
that the warmth
will return.
JE LEEST
What Matters Most: Poems About Love, Loss, & Trauma
PoëzieThis is a collection of poems inspired by love, loss of love, and other events that began in late July of 2000. This is my autobiography in poetry form. It's not just about love but also about the loss of those I have loved. I had fallen totally and...
