Is It Poetry

Veteran Poet - 3,213 Points (1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

The Sea It Calls


Over the sound,
the sound the waves made.


Footprints to the edge
in time, it stops.

Along the beach
I do as well.
To sit and watch, it stop.

It never does,
she watches from
the bench, the park put in.

Always kind she waits.
She waits, this time.

With nothing on her mind.
Except the clock,
she left behind, inside her home.

The church bell rings,
hear it ring.
A purpose once she had.

Submitted: Saturday, April 27, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Form:


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